


Once More, With Feeling

by MisfitManaged



Category: Obernewtyn Chronicles - Isobelle Carmody
Genre: Gen, Parody, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21681199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisfitManaged/pseuds/MisfitManaged
Summary: "Funaga always walking into things," Maruman supplied grumpily. "Why do you never look and go around? Or behind you? Or edit properly? Is this a joke to you?"The mother of all do-over fics, done in the spirit of love and parody. Mistakes are all mine.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13





	1. Prophecy Girl

The sun was warm and a chorus of crickets filled the air with chirruping song. In the distance, an elephant trumpeted.

" _Where are you going this time?_ " Elspeth asked Maruman from their private patch of meadow.

" _Kinraide_ ," Maruman disclosed, smug with knowing. " _Road to freerunning secure, so must set Innle on path._ "

It was odd he deigned to answer at all. Elspeth eased up onto her elbows to blink at him.

" _You're going to...me?_ "

" _Maruman is ever going to Innle._ "

" _Stop that,_ " Elspeth narrowed her eyes. " _Why are you going back there? Forever is written. We are at the freerunning. You may rest now, old friend._ "

Maruman narrowed his eyes right back. The missing one had been replaced days after they’d arrived at the Eden facility, after Sentinel had explained how the 5D printer worked (and then swiftly revoked user rights and set its processes to largely automate). They'd all made use of it; the block obstructing her supramarginal gyrus was mere, orchestratable atoms, repurposed into food or light, or whatever substance the facility at large ran on, probably.

" _Funaga always walking into things,_ " Maruman supplied grumpily. " _Why never look and go around? Or behind you? Or edit properly? Is this a joke to you?_ "

Elspeth snorted and lay back down. "Sentinel, can you translate my companion's gibberish?"

There was a brief, digital chime, and the form of Sentinel appeared beside Elspeth with a small, friendly smile on the semi-transparent panel that served as her face. "Certainly, user Elspeth. He is arguing that in season seventy-nine of Survivor Island 'Clint was robbed' and 'everyone on the island had it in for him since the clamshell bikini incident'. Translation: he is expressing outrage at a fictional television series filmed over 3000 years ago, again."

It took a few seconds for Elspeth to understand.

"No...no I mean the cat," she clarified with a quiet sigh, eyes on the sky. Ceiling. Whatever the eternal, gentle blue and non-harmful rays of artificial sunlight above her should be called.

It wasn't sky. Perfection? More-than-sky? A _reward_?

An Agyllian bird flew between the enormous pines, craning its head to send a furtive, yellow-eyed glance her way, then looked ahead awkwardly as it realised it had been spotted.

"There are seven hundred and four cats in various states of consciousness at the Eden facility; please narrow search parameters."

Maruman fixed Sentinel with a glare, then turned away. " _Farewell, ElspethInnle._ "

"That cat!" Elspeth sat up, pointing in exasperation. "The cat that's been sitting next to me talking in riddles for the past six hours! The cat talking about going back to Kinraide to set Innle on the path. _My_ path."

Sentinel's neck gave a hydraulic ' _szzz_ ', pivoting to observe the retreating feline.

"I see the problem, user Elspeth," Sentinal chimed kindly. "That being is not technically a cat."

Elspeth watched her friend saunter away - watched as he dissolved before her eyes, into nothingness.

The woman slow-blinked, and checked on the sentient AI. "What is he, technically?"

"Designation: _seliga marumanus_ ," Sentinel explained. Her face flickered, the panel replaced with data fuzz, solidifying into photographs of wispy, cat-like creatures. "First successfully created in 5487AD by Dr Jason Maruman."

"...Okay."

She would regret unpacking _this_ now, so returned to her original question. "Where has the not-cat gone?"

The robot's front screen flickered and became a face again, its reply calm and friendly. "To Kinraide Orphamhome."

Elspeth locked eyes with the pixellated panel and held her breath.

"When?"

"At this very moment."

"In relation to...to me now," Elspeth snapped, thinking back on all that Doctor Who she'd watched during her second year in paradise. "Use my timeline for context. Please."

Sentinel's digital eyes blinked green. "He is exactly fifteen years in the past, in relation to your awareness of time."

Elspeth nodded slowly, suspicions confirmed. Maruman travelled through time. It was nice to finally be certain of it. She supposed she could have asked about Maruman at any time, but as she tended to only worry about her friends when they were absent, and Maruman had been at Eden since...the lava...Elspeth excused herself. Old habits. She'd been busy with...forever.

Elspeth lay back on the soft, lush meadow and stared at the roof trying its best to be a perfect sky, again. "I suppose where Maruman is," she idled, "I've just had the accident on the whitestick expedition."

"That is correct."

She huffed in disbelief. "Madame Vega's on her way."

"Also correct."

Elspeth closed her eyes, felt the not-sun on her eyelids. "Jes is alive. And Selmar. And Cameo. And Sharna. Angina is probably composing a song about hope. Swallow is probably out being a scoundrel to defy his father. Jik doesn't know he's a misfit," she rushed, swallowing a lump in her throat. "Where Maruman goes now," she whispered. "They're all alive, aren't they?"

"A _seliga marumanus_ as reference point defies the four-dimensional logic of time humans cling to."

Elspeth managed a laugh through her exasperation. _A reward._

"Try me."

"To a _seliga_ , energy and consciousness are infinite aspects simultaneously circling and weaving through a 5-dimensional tesseract. It is through this construct a _seliga_ walks, and their lines may appear, to you, as points or streams of light, to keep your mind from bending in on itself and ultimately, imploding."

"Like the mindstream?" Elspeth asked.

"If you insist on applying four-dimensional logic, yes. Do you need anything before I depart, user Elspeth?"

She didn't bother opening her eyes, but her brow furrowed. "You're leaving?"

"User Rushton is requesting a word regarding season seventy-nine of Survivor Island that will take a significant amount of processing power to change to his satisfaction."

"Go," Elspeth's laugh spluttered out of her.

With the same pleasant, digital blip, silence fell upon the glade.

And Elspeth lay there as the perfectly warm sunlight filtered through the perfect pines and the perfect bees buzzed their perfect harmonies around those perfect bloody clover flowers and...and somewhere out there, where Maruman just left for, they were all still alive and she was sitting here doing nothing.

She grit her teeth and dove into her mind to drown out the bees and escape her surface thoughts.

It wasn't enough. Her mind contained memories of the hell she went through to get here, to Eden.

All the hell _they_ went through, so she could have her reward.

She dove deeper, far from the taunts and guilt. She'd been through this with Sentinel, time and time again at their weekly therapy sessions. She'd done what she believed to be right at the time, with the tools made available to her.

_Why do you never look and go around? Or behind you? Or edit properly? Is this a joke to you?_

She wanted to escape the Maruman voice, too, but didn't know how, for as she delved deeper into the void that housed the mindstream, or 5-dimensional tesseract, or whatever it truly was, she heard him everywhere.

" _Stupid funaga,_ " Maruman grumbled. " _All funaga are stupid._ "

"We are not!"

Elspeth opened her mind's eye, startled by her own, younger voice ringing in her ears.

She blinked, willing the memory of Maruman and the Orphamhome courtyard away.

It didn't fade. If anything, it solidified. _She_ solidified.

"We're..." Elspeth swayed, grappling for the edge of the fountain behind her, senses overloaded with newly-foreign discomfort. Her tunic was scratchy against her belly, the courtyard smelled like horses and that horrible gas the Orphamhome used in its lanterns, and by LUD it was cold. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes -

_Why do I have bangs?!_

" _We're not stupid,_ " was all she could repeat. Breathe, Elspeth.

The cat - _seliga_ \- whatever - narrowed his yellow eyes - somehow triumphant.

" _Prove it._ "

Maruman turned away, and had not padded three steps before Elspeth's mind was able to scrabble together more words.

" _You mean, I'm me again? This is real?_ "

Well, semblance of a sentence. Under the circumstances it was enough for the six-dimensional cat to re-engage.

" _You are Innle,_ " Maruman murmured.

Elspeth gripped the edge of the fountain and forced a smile. " _Thank you. I am aware. What happens now?_ "

Maruman delivered a shrug. " _Be Innle._ "

As the moon flickered through the clouds, the cat flickered with it, and when the clouds covered its brightness, he was gone.

Elspeth glared at the space Maruman had occupied and clamped down on the urge to scream.

Instead, she found herself looking at her lap, at her hands, small and pale, fingers scratched and - she peered through the relative dimness of night - yes, that was rope burn. She'd forgotten what it was to experience physical pain hours after the injury occurred; she'd always just passed out and woken to find them conveniently healed by whatever the Agyllians had done to her.

_They haven't done that, yet._

Elspeth latched onto the pattern, the sting of the burn as a tether. It was from the rope she'd slipped down before falling into 'tainted' water. The water had been cold, and the rocks beneath it, smooth and slimey.

A dreamtrail bubble, Elspeth reasoned. She'd fallen into a memory Maruman decided to invade.

_This is not how the memory goes, though._

A dream, then. She'd fallen asleep in the meadow and her mind had smushed Maruman and Senitnel's words and her guilt and grief into...this. The beginning.

So she did what any self-respecting misfit caught in a perplexing dream would do; she closed her eyes and delved into her dream-mind to poke at the old consciousness and wake it up.

The feeling of nails scratching down a chalk board squeezed between her ears.

 _Ow_ , was her first deadpan thought.

 _So I'm awake_ , was her second. _I'm awake, and I'm at Kinraide and I'm..._

She risked another glance down. Flat chest. Thin arms. In the corner of her eyes, short, black hair tickled her cheeks and chin.

_I'm...I'm fourteen again._

"Elspeth?"

The twenty-nine year old mind _sobbed_ at the voice. The fourteen-year-old body turned to face her brother, sudden tears thick in her eyes.

Jes stilled, a startled animal, eyes wide and wary. The gold of his armband glinted briefly as he took a small step closer. "What are you doing?" he hazarded. "Are you...crying?"

Elspeth scrubbed a hand across her cheeks. "Yes, brother, I can cry."

Jes shuffled forward, his hand closing around her arm - _Lud_ , she was malnourished!

"Come on, before somebody sees you," he hushed, a plea as much as an order. "And - quiet down," he insisted. "You aren't supposed to be out of bed. They'll think your mind's succumbed to the tainted water-!"

Elspeth covered her mouth with her hand - to hold back a gurgling, incredulous laugh - and met her brother's eye.

Tapping against his sloppy mental shield, a natural barrier keeping his emotions locked tight within, Elspeth spoke directly into his mind.

" _Why don't we just declare me misfit and be done with it?_ " 

Jes winced and let go of her arm as though she'd burned him. With a desperate shake to his head, perhaps trying to convince himself he'd imagined her voice, he resumed guiding her to the infirmary.

" _It's okay,_ " Elspeth continued the mental dialogue, aiming to soften the blow. " _I know. There's nothing wrong with you. In fact-!_ "

Jes closed the door behind them and released Elspeth's arm, eyes wide with horror. "What did you do to me?" he whispered.

Elspeth smiled sadly and reached out with a probe instead. " _Nothing. You've always been able to do this._ "

" _No I haven't!_ " Jes insisted, then immediately clapped both hands to his mouth, realising he’d spoken inside their minds. His eyes travelled up, up, as though he could stare accusingly at his own brain.

" _Relax,_ " Elspeth suggested, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. She laughed softly when he shrugged her off and fixed her with an expression of utter betrayal.

I'd forgotten how afraid you were, Elspeth thought to herself. " _It's okay, I'll make sure nobody finds out about you,_ " she assured.

Perhaps it was Elspeth's uncharacteristic confidence that encouraged her brother to listen instead of panic, and when he lowered his hands from his mouth, he asked in a small voice, “How?"

Elspeth sat on the low, crappy bed and patted the space beside her. " _I'll show you how to create a proper shield. Then...nobody will be able to get in there,_ " she pointed to the centre of his forehead. " _Nobody will know about you...if you don't want them to._ "

" _Wait, there are more of you?_ " Jes' eyes widened again.

" _Hundreds,_ " Elspeth laughed warmly, patting the space beside her again, wishing she could just reach out and hug him. But it was probably too soon. They had not been close, at this time.

She showed him how to create the shield instead.

After the groundwork was prepped, for it would take weeks of mental tempering to solidify and control properly, he left her in mild, confused conflict. Elspeth lay back on the bed, sighing with happiness as she crossed her hands behind her head.

It had been...nice, to be useful to him. To protect him. Maybe that was all - _this_ \- was. A construct to let her make peace with what had happened to her brother. To forgive herself.

She yawned, half-certain that when she woke, she would be in the digital meadow at Eden, with an extra-smug Maruman curled in her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During October '19 I was recommended a fanfic called "Oh God Not Again". It's a Harry Potter parody-fic where a 24-year-old Harry is swept back into his 10-year-old body to the moment Hagrid breaks down the door to collect him from the Dursleys. A wisened-up Harry then steps through the journey of the HP books, determined to a) save those friends he lost, b) stop Voldemort, and c) to put bluntly, have fun and f**k shit up.
> 
> It was silly but cleverly executed way for the writer to come to terms with (I suppose) what had happened in the HP books, and reading it made me ridiculously happy. So happy that I decided to attempt a similar fanfiction based on a fandom I once devoted a very large portion of my life to. 
> 
> It's done with love, I swear - and honestly, it's done for me. If you enjoy, then sweet. Would love to screech about it with you in teh comments.


	2. Living Conditions

“Elspeth? Are…do you need? I brought you this."

She recognised Rosamunde’s voice cutting through her dreams, but Elspeth’s brow crossed in confusion as she woke to inspect the young woman - nope, girl - sitting on the edge of her bed. Long brown hair, tied in its plaits. Brown and white Orphanhome shift. Thin arms, thin face, thin smile. She’d never realised how thin they all were.

“Rosamunde?” she croaked blearily, took stock of her surrounds. 

The girl passed her a cup. "You've been asleep for two days. I heard…” she drifted off, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Elspeth took a slow sip of water and helped the girl out. “That the head wound is more serious than they thought?”

“Yes,” Rosamunde managed with a relieved, nervous laugh. “It’s not, is it? You’re going to be okay, right?”

 _Hmm_ , Elspeth thought, taking another sip of water to occupy her mouth. There had been a time, yes, where Rosamunde had been kind to her. She’d forgotten about that. Perhaps it was all to do with Jes, but Elspeth had a feeling - because she could have feelings now - that Rosamunde genuinely wanted a friend. For the first time in her life, Elspeth wondered where Rosamunde had come from - and what tragedy had landed her in the system.

It was seeing Rosamunde - someone she knew still lived, fifteen years in the future - that convinced Elspeth that perhaps this vision wasn’t so much a vision, as a second chance. Maruman’s words about editing and setting Innle on the right path made more sense.

Because where had her previous path led her? A paradise, a marvel of natural and digital wonder that no human was allowed to touch. Except her of course. And Rushton, for some reason.

But this girl before her, who would soon despise her for tampering with her thoughts, who would grow ambivalent toward her over time, was not permitted there. Nor was her brother, who had only ever done what he could to sweep them under the radar while keeping them together, until they were separated and he was killed for trying to protect other misfits. None of the others - not Selmar or Cameo, Jik, Swallow, Miryum or Straaka, or any of the people who had given their lives for her cause, had given enough to gain entry to 'paradise.'

Whoever had set up the Eden system, to borrow a phrase from one of Rushton's sitcoms, was a bit of a dick.

But then - why would anyone want to go there? Those who survived the Quest had each other. They had Obernewtyn, or Redland Bay, or Sador, or even Habitat, as grim and frankly, weird that place had been.

Ok, Elspeth decided, passing the now empty cup back to her slightly-bemused possible friend. _I am not dreaming_ , she made herself acknowledge. _Which means - this is my chance to edit the course of events._ To actually save them, and maybe, save herself.

With a resolved smile, Elspeth looked up to her - friend, she decided, then and there. “I’m fine, just tired after all the slave labour.”

With a predictable gasp, Rosamunde ducked her head, glancing warily toward the door. “What if someone hears you?”

Elspeth shrugged. “I am happy to confirm to anyone who is interested that a head wound sustained on a forced march is not likely to be the catalyst resulting in enhanced cognitive function.”

The door burst open; Rosamunde and Elspeth turned to it in varying states of curiosity and panic.

Elii stood in the entryway, backlit by oil-lamps, eyes wide. Elspeth had to cover her mouth to suppress her laugh at seeing him looking so young and self-important. She had forgotten about him, too. Gosh, she really had been a horrible friend to all of these people!

Elspeth uncovered her mouth and smoothed down her bedcovers. “Hi, Elii. Come in, it’s good to see you.”

She caught Rosamunde’s tiny, desperate squeak, but locked eyes with the future rebel leader of Kinraide, and gave him that pleasant, easy smile that she wasn’t sure the fourteen-year-old her had realised was a thing.

Elii’s shock narrowed into accusation as the boy stepped into the room and quietly clicked the door closed. “Your head,” he grumbled, scurrying closer. “It’s fine, isn’t it? You’re just enjoying all the attention you’re getting.”

“Yes, I must admit I’m enjoying this private room,” Elspeth mused. “Though I’m surprised you care enough to check up on me, if I’m honest.”

The boy fixed her with a blank stare. “The Overseers,” he drawled. “They’re blaming me for your accident.”

Elspeth bit her tongue to keep from snorting and lowered her eyes. She could work with this, work on a story to protect them all. “But, we had a Herder with us. His presence assured our safety, and nobody else fell from the slippery rope. Thus,” she glanced up, finally in control of the bubble of laughter, “It must have been Lud’s will that I fall.”

Rosamunde seemed to choke on her tongue.

Elii sent an uneasy glance the other girl’s way. “You…that’s what you told them?”

“That’s what I intend to tell them,” Elspeth corrected.

“Right,” Elii murmured thoughtfully. “And you are certain you are…” his shifty eyes flickered over Elspeth’s form, “of…sound mind and body?”

“As much as can be expected, what with the repressed trauma and lack of nutrition,” Elspeth admitted smoothly. 

The boy’s brows crossed. “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

Elspeth offered him a calm smile. “What is the worst they can do?”

“Burn you.”

“True,” Elspeth considered with a shrug. “Though I doubt the Overseers would want to draw more attention to the accident. Even without the presence of a regulatory body to hold them accountable, I’m sure they would rather I survive the fall to slave another day.”

Elii seemed more confused than relieved as he haltingly left the room.

With his departure, and a whoosh of breath, Rosamunde seemed to recover the ability to form words. “They’ll expect you to be more afraid,” she whispered. “Can you not…pretend to be, if not to protect yourself, to protect Jes?”

Elspeth rest a consoling hand on the girl’s arm. “It’ll be okay, Rosa. If I’m afraid, they’ll think I’m hiding something.”

“And…are you?” the girl asked with obvious reluctance.

"No, the truth is much easier to remember," Elspeth considered. "The Herder was inexperienced enough that he'll just splutter his way through any follow up questions and neither deny nor confirm anything." Elspeth shook her head. Lud, but it was so much easier to just talk to Rosamunde than construct the web of lies she’d placed the last time around. “Can you work with me here?” she asked in a quiet voice. “I…know you’ll do anything to protect him. As will I,” Elspeth confirmed, smiling to herself.

Rosamunde blushed and glanced away, a small, tentative smile gracing her long features which served only as a reminder of how young she really was. “Yes. Of course."

“Only if they ask you, though,” Elspeth confirmed thoughtfully. “You don’t have to go to them. I daresay they want to forget it happened as much as we do,” Elspeth swung her legs out of the bed and wiggled her toes experimentally.

“So,” Rosamunde turned the empty water cup in her hand a few times, and glanced to the doorway. “You’re really okay? He’s worried about you, you know. You’re the only family he has left.”

Elspeth smiled at the disclosure. “Thank you. That means a lot. Want to grab some lunch? I’m starving,” she motioned toward her frail body. “I mean, literally starving.”

Rosamunde’s eyes widened perceptibly. “It’s unwise to be seen together so close to the Choosing.”

Elspeth made an unworried sound. “They’ll separate us whether we eat together or not. Let’s make the most if it while we can,” she held her hand out to the girl. “It’s not like we’re going to discuss Sedition against the Council within hearing range, right?” she smirked. “How dumb do they think we are?”

Rosamunde huffed with incredulity, though her eyes bore a spark of warmth. “Are you sure that water wasn’t tainted?”

“I’m sure that the water didn’t give me magical powers,” Elspeth smiled as the girl tentatively took her hand. “Besides, it’s far more likely that the noxious Whitestick served as catalyst, in the which case, we are all mutants now.”

Rosamunde managed to cover a snort, and Elspeth’s smile widened as warmth filled her. Rosamunde really did want to be friends with her. Huh.

The first time around, she had accused Jes of only being worried about himself, and Rosamunde of only wanting to be friends because she wanted to protect Jes.

And really, Jes was probably still worried for himself, but not because of what a misfit sister would do to his promotion. He was more likely worried that the net he’d placed over the region of her brain that regulated feelings, during their parents’ burning, dulling her to the world and everyone in it, had been dislodged by the fall, and that she’d unwittingly tell the Overseers what he had done. As though a mind block could be toppled so simply; it had taken the 5D printer and Sentinel days to deconstruct it, and both ongoing therapy with the artificial intelligence and magnesium supplements to work herself through the aftermath.

But Jes didn’t have the gift of hindsight, or anywhere near enough magnesium in his diet to deal with the excess adrenaline living within the orphanhome system generated. He had been hiding from himself, anxious, for so long.

Elspeth stopped in the entry to the dining hall and took a long, satisfied breath. Something had burnt, probably the gruel pots, but above the bitter tang was the salty, heady scent of-

“Cheese,” Elspeth sighed longingly. “Real cheese.”

Rosamunde gently untangled her hand, ducking to whisper. “Cheese?”

Elspeth took a moment longer to relish the smell, before she offered Rosamunde a smile, aware that several pairs of wary eyes had turned toward her.

“Sorry. I just really love cheese. Let’s go.”

Cheese in Eden was…fine. All the food was fine, synthesised by the 5D printer to meet their nutritional needs. It was simpler and cleaner than having the mechanisms produce cheese from actual milk donated by the cows and goats and camels, and easier than trying to find storage space in paradise for their waste.

While they ate their burnt gruel and cheese, one of the Overseers announced the impending visit that - in her cheese-induced haze - Elspeth had almost forgotten about. As the rest of the children in the dining hall paled, Elspeth did her best to look duly worried, while internally, she cheered.

Her ticket to Obernewtyn was nearly here, and this time, Elspeth was determined to make Madame Vega’s visit work for her.

—

Vega’s arrival progressed much the same way that it had last time - and why wouldn’t it? She stepped from her carriage, dressed elegantly in tailored shades of blue with gold accents, her crystalline eyes warm and welcoming.

From the courtyard, where the orphans were assembled trying not to make eye-contact, Elspeth quietly inspected the young woman properly.

This was the woman she had killed with her brain; the first life she had taken. This was the woman who had held a knife to Rushton’s neck (though, in hindsight, who could blame her?). She had stood and watched as Alexi had tortured her, and was responsible for Selmar and Cameo’s deaths, and Lud knew what else.

No more, Elspeth promised. She could, _would_ protect them all.

Vega was a misfit herself, wasn’t she? Elspeth could not forget their initial encounter, using what she now knew to be Enthralling to encourage her to reveal herself. It was the very ability the woman was shielding at this moment, with enough control and stability to suggest she had been taught by someone how to use it, not simply figured it out herself.

That was an interesting discovery, and Elspeth filed the knowledge away for later.

With a carefully shaped mental probe, Elspeth pointedly, but politely, knocked on the woman’s shield.

“ _You are finally here,_ ” Elspeth sent with feigned relief.

The only outward sign Vega felt the probe was a slight pause in her fluid motions that nobody except Elspeth was looking for. Vega accepted the hand of the Head Overseer, recovering swiftly, giving the terrified onlookers a dazzling smile. “They are simply adorable, Alana,” she simpered, casually looking up to find Elspeth in the sea of small faces. “I am certain we will be able to help one another.”

The Head Overseer murmured a gloating reply. Elspeth watched as Vega dutifully nodded, and they retreated to take the tea that had been prepared especially for her visit.

The orphanhome occupants seemed to let out a unified sigh of relief once Madame Vega entered the main house.

Jes found Rosamunde in the crowd as it dispersed, and placed a hand on Elspeth’s shoulder. “Well. She doesn’t seem so bad. Back to work then. You…need anything?” he asked.

Elspeth nodded emphatically. “I need to speak with her. She seems fascinating.”

Jes’ eyes widened, and to her left, Rosamunde made that increasingly-familiar choking sound.

“You need to take this seriously, Elf,” Rosamunde whispered. “She could have you declared misfit if you get on the wrong side of her!”

“I am taking this seriously,” Elspeth ensured, frowning at their stricken expressions. She wondered how to explain that Obernewtyn was a far better option than Kinraide. They’d actually be fed there. They wouldn’t have to harvest or process Whitestick any more. And Jes wouldn’t be killed by Soldierguards.

But given the wild rumours about the place, they might actually attribute her nonchalance to madness.

So she shrugged. “Can you get me an audience with her?” she asked her brother.

“No!” Jes hissed, glancing around with furtive exasperation. “Keep your voice down. Nobody wants to meet with an Obernewtyn Keeper!”

Elspeth narrowed her eyes and shaped a probe to give his mind a shove. “ _Trust me,_ ” she sent. “ _If I don’t go to her, she will come to me. She is a misfit._ ”

Jes straightened his lips and gave her a doubtful look. “I said back to work,” he grumbled, and turned from the girls to return to his duties.

Rosamunde flashed Elspeth a wide-eyed look and took her arm, to direct her toward their workhouse, and Elspeth recalled they were knitting woollen hats, for the Overseers to sell at the Kindraide Farmers Market the following Sunday. If all continued to plan - well, with some obvious changes if she had any say - she’d never finish that hat. She was rubbish at knitting, anyway. One of the other orphans would have to pick it up for her.

As they walked in silence, Elspeth mused over the predicament; she would leave Kinraide, of that she was certain, and she would do her best to ensure her brother and Rosamunde left with her. Rosamunde belonged at Obernewtyn anyway, she just didn’t realise it yet. But the other orphans, the other misfits she would be condemning to this constant drudgery and misery? Did their lives not matter, because they were not Innle?

Skirting the fountain she had last talked to Maruman several days ago from, she started to tell herself that they weren’t her problem. Their problem was too big. She couldn’t save everybody.

Four children, all younger than her, bustled past. Elspeth stared, recognising the girl with red paint on her face from the Whitestick expedition amongst them, her eyes glazed and devoid of hope. Between them, they carried a cauldron of something that smelled like rotten fruit. Wine, or maybe vinegar. Something else to sell at the Farmer’s Market, surely.

She squashed her apathy like a bug underfoot (not that she would ever purposefully step on a real bug to teach it a lesson. Thought-bugs didn't feel pain, or have families). She insisted that no, actually, she could help them. Because this time, she was determined not to work alone for the majority of her quest. Her stubborn, self-imposed isolation had been for precisely no reason, and had resulted in - the reward of permanent isolation from the friends she could have made.

Not this time.

“Hey,” Elspeth stopped the red-faced girl with a gentle touch to her shoulder, her mind scrabbling to locate her name. “You’re - you need some help with that?”

The red-faced girl blinked at her, then her hand. “What?”

“It looks heavy,” Elspeth offered a smile, lowering her hand, because the girl seemed fixated on it. “Can I help?”

The Seditioner’s daughter lowered the cauldron to the ground, her eyes narrowing. Her peers squeaked in surprise and Rosamunde, predictably, choked quietly. Once they were at Obernewtyn, she’d have to get Roland to check her over, just to make sure her tonsils didn’t in fact need removing.

“Why would you help me?” the girl asked warily, eyes scanning either side of them, clearly concerned they were being watched, and everything she said was being recorded as damning evidence.

Elspeth’s heart actually went out to the poor little thing. “Because I want to?” she suggested simply.

The girl, and the three with her, just stared at Elspeth, so she rolled her eyes and laid a hand on the cauldron. “I’m not an informant.”

“That’s what an informant would say,” the red-faced girl pointed out.

“Only the really dumb ones,” Elspeth managed a small laugh. “Right?”

“What’s all this?” Elii’s voice, young but authoritative, joined the fray.

The smaller children meeped. Elspeth turned to give him a wide, friendly smile. “Perfect timing. Help us with this, will you?”

Elii arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were on bottling duty, Gordie.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” Elspeth brought a hand to her heart, ensuring she didn’t laugh when the boy’s cheek’s pinked. But of course he cared. Behind the awkwardness, Elspeth knew there was a beating heart that cared, deeply, for the well-being of Kinraide. She had limited time remaining at the Orphanhome, and she had to try and tap into the Elii he would become in that time.

Elspeth rose to the challenge with a spark of determined hope. “But of course, you are right. I apologise for offending everyone and probably Lud by offering to help four pre-teens carry a cauldron of alcohol.”

“That’s enough of that,” Elii muttered uncomfortably, waving a vague hand at the small gathering and flickering a nervous glance toward the main house. “You know everyone has to do their part to keep the Orphanhome functioning.”

“Truespoken,” Elspeth acknowledged warmly. “So, might we not lead by example?” she nodded toward the cauldron between them, its contents giving off a haze of acidic vapour that wavered in the midday sun. "Work together, to keep the Orphanhome at its best?”

Elii held out his hands in exasperation. “If I carry it, will you stop talking?”

“I like talking,” Elspeth shrugged, grinning at her small victory.

“Move over,” Elii grumbled, placing his hand on the large, twisted handle. “On three, everybody lift.”

—

That evening, sat around the fountain in the fifteen minutes of leisure time between dinner ending and curfew starting, Elspeth stared at the moon, and reflected on the day. Once prodded in the right direction, it had been alarmingly easy to gain both the red-faced girl’s - Sunny, she corrected - trust, and to disarm Elii’s hard-worked sternness. Rosamunde had trailed after them, her expression less fearful by the moment as she got used to Elspeth's new-found confidence and realised nobody was going to turn her into the Overseers for being happy or kind. After the cauldron was successfully delivered to the bottling shed, Elspeth invited Elii to remain and assist with the next part of the process, to ensure it was completed properly.

And then...they were able to talk. Not about anything relating to religion or politics - Elspeth didn’t want to scare the others off. They talked of home. It did not take much prompting for the gaggle of twelve-year-olds with them to share their own memories of home, and even the reluctant Sunny offered a picture of her former life, a happy memory of swimming at a waterhole with a younger sister, musing with a swallow how anyone could assume trout farmers were capable of Sedition.

Elspeth listened, and offered what she had been incapable of realising last time; empathy. These kids had all had it really rough. They deserved better. But she could not change the system, or everyone’s minds, overnight.

Well, unless she coerced the entire Overseer population and stormed the Councilcourt. Which she might just do, before she left, if nothing else, to improve the orphan’s conditions, though she was resolved to sow the seeds of true change, this time around, instead of turning people into her pawns, because that had a tendency to backfire.

When Rosamunde finally dragged her away to their knitting, Elspeth was satisfied to hear Elii talking more gently to Sunny, and even exhibited a gruff sort of kindness when he said he might be able to ask which home Sunny’s sister had been sent to, because he 'knows a guy who knows things'.

It wasn't exactly a plan, or even a revelation, but it was a start.

The bell in the main house tolled; the five-minute curfew warning pealed through the night and the birds roosting in the hedgerow cooed, their thoughts vaguely disgruntled.

Elspeth brushed off her skirt and stood, breathing in the cool, crisp air as she gave the full moon one final, genuine smile. Elii would help the others, of this she was fairly confident. The capacity to help was already there, he just needed someone to believe his decisions had the ability to make someone’s life better.

Returning to the house, Elspeth moved against the flow of other orphans, walking calmly toward the wing reserved for Madame Vega and waving in a friendly manner whenever anyone flashed her a curious look.

It was time to secure her path to Obernewtyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, every chapter will be named after an episode of Buffy, for no reason other than it seemed like a good idea at the time.


	3. The Initiative

Elspeth placed herself before the door to Vega’s room, more excited than nervous, and sent a mental probe in place of a knock.

“ _I’m here,_ ” she announced.

The silence within was broken by a sharp, tinkling noise that sounded quite like a tea cup breaking as it was dropped on the flagstones.

In the space of three heartbeats, the door was shirked opened, and Madame Vega stood before her, wiping her hands on a linen cloth. “Well well. Isn’t this a curious thing?” she smiled warmly, inviting the girl inside with an open palm.

“Hello, Madame Vega,” Elspeth gave a disarming smile and stepped inside, unconcerned when the door snapped shut - and was locked - behind her. She could deal with a lock in under six seconds. And besides, she wanted to be here.

“Please - sit,” Vega encouraged, motioning toward the desk in front of the window. “Will you take tea?”

Elspeth scrunched her nose as she sat. “No thanks, I’ll be up all night if I have caffeine. But I’ll have some milk?”

“Of course,” Madame Vega blinked uncertainly, though her schooled smile remained fixed in place as she poured milk into a teacup, and slid it across the desk.

Her crystal-blue eyes met Elspeth’s. “You are not afraid of me,” she stated.

“Of course not,” Elspeth shook her head, smiling as she lifted the tea cup to her lips. Real, proper cow’s milk - she had forgotten how silky smooth it was.

Madame Vega studied Elspeth as the girl finished her milk, folding her hands together on the desk. “You are not afraid of being declared a misfit, either, are you?”

“Should I be?” Elspeth lifted her eyebrows. “We have the advantage. We’re good at blending in, and if I’m at risk, I’ll just,” she waved a hand, considering, “find some way to change their minds. Wouldn’t you?”

A different woman might have feared such talk, or even taken affront. Vega merely smiled again.

“You are a curious one. Elspeth, isn’t it?” she peered at a pile of papers in front of her. “Elspeth - Gordie?”

“That’s right,” Elspeth confirmed, sitting to attention. “I’m the one you’ve been looking for.”

Vega stilled, momentarily, then sat back and closed the file. “Remind me, my dear,” her mouth thinned. “Why exactly do you think I’m here?”

Elspeth suppressed the grin as she felt Vega reinforcing her own mental shield.

As stoic as she could manage, Elspeth complied. “To find the misfit capable of decoding Marisa Seraphim’s diaries.”

It was truly a gift to see Madame Vega startle back, and her eyes widened as she glanced around the room. “You dare pluck names from my mind, child?” she hissed.

“How could I? You’re shielding,” Elspeth shook her head, and an idea formed in her mind. “It’s part of my ability,” Elspeth explained gently, nodding with encouragement. “I can see into the future.”

“You dreamed of my coming?” Madame Vega narrowed her eyes, though Elspeth caught the corner of her lip lifting in - was it amusement? Triumph?

“I wouldn’t call it a dream,” Elspeth pressed on, enjoying pulling the carpet out from under Vega’s perfectly manicured feet time and time again. “It was…very real and...kind of lonely. Look, do you want my help or not?”

The woman shook her head in a vague and bemused manner. “Did you…tell anyone else about this, why I’m here?”

Elspeth shook her head, reaching toward an untouched tray of biscuits. “May I?”

Vega idly waved her hand toward the plate. “Help yourself. Not even your brother?”

“Jes?” Elspeth stifled a laugh. “No, of course not. But you had better bring both of us, just to be sure he’s not harbouring misfit abilities too. And his girlfriend,” Elspeth mused, nibbling at the edge of the crumbly vanilla deliciousness. There was actual proper jam nestled in the centre of it, and Elspeth had to fight the instinct to bury her nose in it.

“And her name is?” Madame Vega made a note in a slim book before her.

“Oh! Rosamunde.”

“Surname?”

Elspeth opened her mouth, closing it when she drew a blank. “I…don’t know! Wow,” she sat back, baffled, and a little embarrassed. “I didn’t even think to ask. Is there more than one Rosamunde here?” she asked with interest. 

“Your powers didn’t simply,” Vega waved her hand. “Tell you?”

Elspeth gave her a patronising look. “I’m not just going to invade my friend’s privacy like that, I’m not a monster.”

“Quite right,” Vega’s eyes widened slightly as she turned back to her notes. “So tell me, Elspeth Gordie,” she continued to scribble in the book before her. “Since you know everything else, I expect your visions detailed how, exactly, one moves through our legal system to become a resident of Obernewtyn?”

Elspeth nodded, a little bounce to her movements. There was _a lot_ of sugar in these biscuits; she helped herself to another. “Yes, you’ll have to denounce us as misfit but,” Elspeth scrunched her nose, “might I propose an alternative that doesn’t involve paying Justice Cormack a whole pile of money from the Seraphim trust for a hearing?”

Again, Madame Vega closed her eyes, her mouth definitely curving into a smile this time. Somehow, she was enjoying this as well, perhaps nothing more than the change to her routine. “Enlighten me.”

“You could adopt me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Madame Vega eyed Elspeth up and down.

“Adoption. Isn’t that what Orphanhomes are set up to facilitate?” Elspeth blinked innocently.

Madame Vega sat back and observed her with an increasingly perplexed arch to her eyebrow. “Why in Lud’s name would I adopt you?”

Elspeth nibbled the edge of her third biscuit, tilting her head in a considering manner. Sugar was great. “Because I’m so adorable?” she suggested with a small shrug. “I mean. Marisa adopted Alexi-” Elspeth took great satisfaction in the way Vega’s eyes popped out of her head - “and you already have a lawyer in place. Just,” Elspeth waved, “get him to draw up adoption papers, instead of denouncement ones. Avoid the whole tedious hearing part and we can go to Obernewtyn sooner. What do you have to lose? It's not like adopted children can inherit."

Vega’s lips thinned again - Elspeth saw this as a sign she was actually considering her. “And your brother?” she blinked.

“You would never dream of separating family members,” Elspeth supplied with a sweet smile. “Would you?”

Vega just stared. “And his girlfriend?”

“True love.”

“They’re sixteen,” Vega spluttered.

“Tell me about it,” Elspeth widened her eyes. “But my offer stands. We’re a package deal. You want me, you take all three of us.”

The Obernewtyn Keeper tapped her quill on the table with some manner of anxious frustration that Elspeth had never seen the woman exhibit - last time around. “I could just denounce you anyway.”

“Yes, but - I don’t think you will,” Elspeth dismissed, helping herself to a fourth biscuit. “Not when everything you have been looking for has landed on your doorstep.”

Vega’s searching stare relaxed and she offered a smile that might have been sincere, had Elspeth not known the woman better. “You are a smart little girl. I'm going to enjoy working with you, I can tell."

 _So long as it stops the torture of my friends_ , Elspeth thought privately, reinforcing her smile, _I will do anything._

“Thank you,” she accepted, and stood. “When do we leave for Sutrium?”

Vega’s smile persisted. “I will speak to the Overseers in the morning, and be in touch.”

“Great! I’ll get Jes and Rosa to pack,” Elspeth held her hand out to the woman.

Vega inspected it for an instant, before extending her delicate palm to shake on it.

“Welcome to the family, Elspeth.”

"Thanks, mum."

—

After breaking the news of their pending adoption to Jes and Rosamunde, and diffusing the ensuing panic, Elspeth retreated to her dorm to get in a few hours sleep before their journey.

“ _What are you doing, ElspethInnle?_ ” Maruman spat in her mind.

Elspeth mentally shoved his claws off her consciousness and spotted the irascible not-feline lurking beside her pillow. “ _Editing,_ ” she returned.

“ _Clumsy funaga!_ ” Maruman glared as Elspeth sat next to him. “ _This is laying waste, not editing._ ”

Elspeth snorted, lifting a hand to the cat’s head and scratching his ear. “ _So?_ ” she replied, ignoring the indignation flowing off Maruman in waves. “ _I’m not going to sit back and watch them die again, not when I can do something about it._ ”

“ _By helping the funaga find the glarsh?!_ ”

Elspeth gave him a baleful, cat-like look, wondering for half a beat how Maruman knew of her recent conversation - before remembering who she was speaking to. “ _Do you remember how bloody difficult it was to locate them? Marisa’s doors only showed Cassy's riddles in Gadi and I had to involve a - lot - of people to even decode it. Not to mention the endless trek north, and the tunnel full of demon bats, or the stone sword which is in Sador as we speak. They don't even know half of the places they'll need to access exist. I'll throw them this bone, if it'll save lives._ ”

“ _You forget about the Destroyer,_ ” Maruman accused, finally batting her hand away with a quick, short rowl.

“ _Lidge?_ ” Elspeth arched an eyebrow, replacing her hand. “ _And stop that. I am offering you comfort and you like it. She hasn’t even been born yet. I don’t see what I can do about her._ ”

“ _Ariel!_ ” Maruman hissed, bearing the comforting scratch by flattening his ears and pretending not to enjoy it. “ _Stupid funaga! Lidgebaby was not Destroyer!_ ”

 _So now you will use his name,_ she sighed privately _._ Elspeth sat back on her hands, swinging her legs onto her bed. She had, admittedly, forgotten about Ariel’s involvement in her quest, owing to it serving little true relevancy, when all was said and done. “ _Why did he want it?_ ” she mused to Maruman, and the world in general. “ _What did he think would happen if he obtained access to the BOT? The lines of communication in our world aren’t exactly conducive to world domination. It would take months to relay a single order. And really,_ ” she mentally laughed. “ _Who would want to try bring order to this hot mess?_ ”

“ _Innle attempts to find reason in the mind of madness! Some things can be edited, and some things be fixed._ ”

Elspeth considered Maruman’s irateness and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Wrong. Everything could be edited, with the right motivation, and time. “ _What sent Ariel mad, Maruman?_ ”

She suspected she already knew the answer, but was still chilled to hear it.

“ _Ariel had mind torn into by the machine,_ ” Maruman growled, surprisingly forthcoming for once. “ _His father bent his child’s mind in pursuit of glarsh. Never forgot._ ”

“ _So,_ ” Elspeth blinked, joining the dots as a sick taste pooled in her mouth. “ _Ariel’s obsession is really nothing more than a desire to make his father proud of him?_ ” she reasoned.

He would have to be what, ten years old at this moment, his mental state the product of a horrible father and experiments gone wrong? Or was there something deeper, or missing within him, that made it impossible for Ariel to feel empathy? But no - he was an Empath, wasn't he? Something in him had been...broken. Badly broken.

Eden - and the removal of the emotional block - had softened her; Elspeth couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Her first step would be to locate - and take care of - the wolves Ariel had hurt. From there? Well. That would depend on a great many things.

Dragon had been Ariel’s age when they had found her. She had been through a remarkable amount of trauma, and Obernewtyn had opened their arms to her, helped her, rebuilt her from the ground up into the startling young woman, the Queen she had become.

But when Ariel had run away from Obernewtyn after Alexi and Vega died - they had dismissed Ariel as a lost cause, too far gone, too cruel to bother rehabilitating. They had left him to die in the snow, cold and alone. Because they decided he deserved it.

He had been _ten years old_. He was a _child_ and they had given up on him. And, he had brought down vengeance on them. Torturing Rushton. Torturing Domick, and poisoning him with incurable sickness. The girls on Herder Isle. And Lidge. Who might she have become, raised by different, understanding hands?

Dameon had once likened Ariel to a rotten plum - Lud, but she’d have to face _him_ soon, wouldn’t she? But that meant he had once been sweet and healthy, even if he was now more squishy and bruised and…smelly, to empaths at least.

Maruman shrugged Elspeth’s hand off in frustration and leapt onto the windowsill, the panel open a crack to let in a wisp of smoky, night time air. “ _Try to look surprised, Innle, when you discover the doors, and tread carefully around the Heart of Darkness._ ” 

Elspeth rolled her eyes at the departing not-a-cat. “ _I’ll be careful._ ”

—

Owing to the lack of funding and resources provided by the Council for the orphanhome systems, not to mention the tainted water incident that frankly, everyone wanted to sweep under the rug, Kinraide was all too happy to hand three of its older charges over to the Obernewtyn Keeper.

By mid-morning, the three teenagers had been provided with clean trousers and tunics that actually fit them, and were loaded into the fine carriage owned by the Obernewtyn estate that Vega liked to travel around in.

Rosamunde seemed to roll well with this change in her circumstances, to Elspeth’s surprise, for she remembered how withdrawn and cold the girl had been the first time around (though admittedly, she had been through a stupid amount of trauma, watched her boyfriend kill someone with his mind then watched him be shot dead, and discovered that Elspeth had tampered with her brain). Rosamunde had been more worried about the impending Choosing than Madame Vega’s arrival, and as a girl who generally took her cues from her peers, if Elspeth and Jes weren’t worried, Rosamunde saw no reason to express worry. That, and she seemed happy to be warm, for once.

And Jes was only not worried because Elspeth had ensured that nothing about misfit abilities was going to appear on their permanent records. He could spend a year or two at the Obernewtyn farm, then apply for his Normalcy certificate and do - whatever he wanted to do. Elspeth picked up hints of longing from her brother, to return to, and rebuild their family home at Rangorn.

Maybe he’d do just that, some day. At least now, he had a chance to dream about his future.

Madame Vega gushed and preened and farewelled the other orphans with her practised grace, and then fell rather quiet once they loaded into the carriage and set off.

Elspeth could not sit and stay quiet. They were going to Sutrium! And then - Obernewtyn! She waved at her peers from the window, grinning like a lunatic, but nothing, nobody could spoil this sweet feeling of going home. She’d have to keep from hugging - everyone - until they had at least been introduced. 

“Take care of the kids for me!” she yelled at a bemused Elii as they passed the gatehouse.

“Elspeth!” Jes hissed from within the carriage. “Sit down before you fall out. What are you, five years old?”

Elspeth pulled herself back in and took a long, satisfied breath of exhilarating, fresh, un-processed air. “I’m just so happy,” she told him openly, turning to Madame Vega, on her left. “I can’t wait to meet everyone. Thanks again, mum.”

Jes sucked in a breath which Elspeth ignored. Oh, she understood he would think it disrespectful to their mother’s memory to call Vega that, but Elspeth needed to disarm this woman who would sooner slit a nineteen year old’s throat than help her, in another time.

Madame Vega’s patient smile was marred only by a brief, perplexed crossing of her brows; she was clearly unused to…enthusiasm. “It’s probably best you don’t call me that.”

“Oh - I’m so sorry,” Elspeth’s eyes widened. “Would you prefer mother? Or Vega?”

“I would prefer Madame,” Vega’s lip curled at the corner.

“Madame, that’s pretty,” Elspeth decided thoughtfully. “Is it French for mother?” she sat on her hands and tried to keep her feet from swinging like a child. Which she was.

Another confounded look crossed Vega’s features. “What is French?”

Elspeth bit her tongue. “Oh, just a word I heard the Herders saying,” her eyes drifted to the window as she made herself just - continue smiling. “Oh look Jes! The cloudberry vines are blooming!”

Right. Nobody had access to the libraries, or Tor, or any Beforetime archives - yet. Nobody had watched or read as much history as she had. She would have to be a little more careful.

Gratefully the journey provided enough visual interest for Elspeth to avoid any more slip ups, and she relished the change between travelling to Sutrium in a lady’s carriage, as opposed to the dark, scary ride she had experienced in the jail cart last time.

By the time they arrived in Sutrium, owing to a cart clogging the Eastern gate, the Councilcourt had closed for the day.

Madame Vega sighed as she beheld the sign and shook the chained door in futility. “I suppose we will have to spend the night. I always forget about the traffic,” she mused. 

“It can’t be past four,” Elspeth frowned at the sign denoting the Councilcourt’s hours. “Why are they only open until two? That’s ridiculous!”

“Why indeed,” Madame Vega drawled.

“Public service,” Rosamunde said knowingly, under her breath.

Jes shot her a warning look. “Apologies, Madame, but…shouldn’t we find somewhere to stay?”

Vega collected herself as she turned and sighed at the horizon. “That is none of your concern, Master Gordie,” she marched down the Councilcourt steps. “Miss Page," - as it happened, Rosamunde had a surname - "you will accompany me. Elspeth - wait in the carriage with your brother. I caution you against wandering.”

“Of - of course. At once, my Lady,” Rosamunde hastened after Vega with a furtive look at the siblings.

Elspeth stepped up next to her bemused brother, watching as Vega passed Rosamunde a bag from the carriage, then crossed the square with the girl by her side.

“She means she’ll take care of it. As our legal Guardian.”

It was Elspeth’s turn to receive the Jes Glare of Annoyance. “I know what she means.”

“Then why do you look so confused?” Elspeth nudged him in the ribs.

Jes drew himself up and squared his shoulders. “My apologies for not being immediately used to having a new mother,” he accused.

“She’ll never replace mother,” Elspeth clarified. “But Jes - maybe the stories about her, and Obernewtyn, exist for a reason. Maybe I’m just trying to make sure she - I don’t know,” Elspeth considered, searching for a way to explain without - well, explaining. She fell back on what the fourteen year old her - what every fourteen year old girl - actually wanted. “I just want them to like me.”

Jes’ head turned slowly, to regard his sister with narrowed green eyes. “Why do you care so much about what they think?”

“Like you can talk,” Elspeth snorted. Her eyes lit up when she realised who the carriage driver was - and which horses led it - and she grabbed her brother’s arm, dragging him down the stairs. “Come on.”

“What has happened to you?” Jes asked, bemused, but with a small, incredulous laugh.

Elspeth smiled back at him over her shoulder. “I bet the driver will let us sit up with him while we wait.”

After Elspeth bounded up to Enoch and introduced herself and her brother, she left the pair in conversation under the pretence of checking the horse’s hooves for burrs and pebbles.

Avra and Mira were a little perplexed by Elspeth’s exuberant welcome at first, though promised to spread the word to the other animals that Innle had arrived, once they returned to Obernewtyn. First order of business with regards to the beast population would be to rescue the wolves Ariel had trained/tortured into madness of course, but second would be to set up the Beast Guild, for there was really nothing stopping the animals coming together and commencing Lowland rescues before the pass froze over. After that, she could organise teams of beasts to trickle north, with wolves to guide them, to reach the flyer that would take them to the freerunning barud.

No use in them hanging about for her if they didn’t want to.

“ _I donot understand, Innle,_ ” Avra sent politely, but cautiously, her canniness a welcome reminder of the horse’s suitability to lead. “ _You have not explained how the freerunning barud is free of funaga. Many have often questioned that such a place exists outside the longsleep._ ”

“ _It’s protected,_ ” Elspeth explained, sending a mental picture of the facility she had called home for the past five years.

“ _But how?_ ” Mira chimed in. “ _There is a funaga, in your mindpicture. No barud is ever truly free of funaga._ ”

Elspeth checked the image she had sent swiftly. “ _Oh. Yes, that’s just Rushton. He’s…a special case._ ”

“ _How so?_ ” Avra queried curiously. “ _Is he not funaga?_ ”

“ _Don’t worry about him,_ ” Elspeth tried to press on. “ _I doubt he’ll end up there this time._ ”

“ _This time?_ ”

“ _I know a Rushton,_ ” Mira mused dreamily. “ _He works on the farms at the barud._ ”

Elspeth quickly pressed on. “ _As I was saying. As soon as the Guild is established, those beasts who don’t wish to remain and work with humans can be provided with the path to Eden. I mean, the freerunning. Can we just call it Eden, from now on? It should be entirely free of funaga contact at this time, and there’s no risk of any funaga finding you._ ”

“ _How does it remain hidden?_ ” Avra asked again, baffled.

Elspeth paused, considering the bottom of Avra’s back hoof. “ _Deserts. Vast deserts surround it._ ”

“ _Humans cross deserts all the time._ ”

“ _And lava. Eventually,_ ” Elspeth added with a mental wince.

“ _Lava inevitably cools to form new rock and fertile land,_ ” Avra pointed out gently. “ _Your deserts will thus not remain deserts for long._ ”

“ _And did Innle not say we are to reach this Eden by a metallic flying bird?_ ” Mira asked Avra helpfully. “ _What is stopping funaga from travelling to freerunning on back of same bird?_ ”

“ _Oh-kay,_ ” Elspeth admitted in a rush. “ _You both raise some valid points. There are a lot of grey areas relating to the…free from funaga for the rest of time part of the legend. You don’t have to go to Eden, if you don’t want to. But the option is there, and all I’m saying is that some beasts may appreciate being given the choice to go. It could be centuries before funaga start to take any interest in it._ ”

" _Innle speaks many truths,_ ” Avra acknowledged smoothly. “ _Once they are presented with options, they may make their own plans._ ”

“ _Good,_ ” Elspeth puffed, turning back to her brother and Enoch with wide eyes, opting to sit inside the carriage and collect herself.

It wasn’t long before Madame Vega and Rosamunde returned, and it was with overwhelming relief Elspeth exited the carriage and followed her party to the hotel across the square.

How had her first encounter with the Obernewtyn beasts gone so spectacularly wrong?


	4. A New Man

Elspeth recovered her excitement by morning, for once the Councilcourt opened (at 11am, Rosamunde was swift to point out with an unimpressed snark), the adoption papers could be officiated and they could commence their journey to Obernewtyn. By cart it would take about three days, which meant they’d have to spend the night in a couple of the villages en route. Elspeth was very much looking forward to passing through all of the towns she had only been able to think about for the past five years.

Once within the vast sandstone structure, its flagstones smoothed and polished to peak shininess (and slipperiness), Vega requested the teenagers stay in the waiting area. She was uncertain if anything would be required of them.

Elspeth glanced around the expansive room with its bench seats lining the walls, and internally cheered when she spotted the tanned - and much younger! - Daffyd, sitting by himself on the wings, making patterns in his hands with a piece of string.

She made her way to the boy, gratefully remembering in time that she wasn’t known to him, and that she had better maintain a little caution where the Druid was concerned.

She didn’t want to end up wandering into that particular mess again, in a few years time.

Ignoring the choking sound from Rosamunde, and the eye-roll from Jes - he had recalled his sister’s tendency to wander, prior to their virtual imprisonment in the orphanhome system - Elspeth took a seat a few lengths down from Daffyd, and sat back, crossing her hands over her stomach.

She noticed his attention flicker to her, fleetingly, before he returned to the string game.

At length, Elspeth let out a long sigh.

His curiosity returned. “You all right?”

“Hmm?” Elspeth glanced to him, nonchalant.

Daffyd took in her appearance; the clothes that fit, the half-decent boots, the warm coat, scarf and hat - and with a quirk to his cheek, turned his eyes back to his game. “Never mind.”

Elspeth went back to staring at her folded hands, her eyes widening. She wasn’t scared. That was the only difference. The last-time Daffyd had seen how afraid she was. She’d have to approach him.

For a beat, she studied him, watched as he created a series of diamonds with the length of string, and again as he twisted and it became a more star-like form.

“How are you doing that?” Elspeth laughed.

Daffyd hazarded her a glance. After a pause he held up his hands. “This?”

“Yes, that,” Elspeth grinned, risking sliding a little closer along the bench. “Is it magic?” she whispered.

The boy cracked a half-laughing smile. “No such thing,” he turned back to his game, twisting his fingers again and pulling them apart to proudly display a spider-web-like form. “Least, not any more. It’s just a game.”

“Can you show me how to do it?”

“Sure,” Daffyd shrugged. “You have any string?”

“Sorry, no.” Elspeth bit her lip in regret.

Daffyd hesitated, before twisting his fingers again. “Here,” he passed Elspeth the length of maroon. “I’ve got plenty more at home.”

Elspeth stared at the loop, fitting it over her thumbs and testing it. “Thanks,” she managed. But of course, Daffyd had always been naturally friendly. She shouldn’t have been choking up over a piece of string, but here she was, choking up over it.

Clearing the lump from her throat, Elspeth glanced up and made herself smile. “Where’s home? If you’re in textiles I’m assuming Half Moon Bay?” she couldn’t have him think she knew exactly where he was from, who he allied with, and who he would cross oceans to find in the future.

Daffyd gave a bashful, evasive shrug. “I’m assuming you’re from the Highlands, with kit like that?”

“No,” Elspeth laughed, slipping her pinky fingers into the loop. “Now what do I do?” she queried.

“Oh,” Daffyd leaned closer. “Twist your thumbs under the baseline. Yes, that’s it.”

Elspeth held up a series of triangles. “Easy. So you’re not from the West coast, then?”

“Stick your fourth fingers in the apex here,” Daffyd pointed. “No. You?”

“I’m not from the West coast, no,” Elspeth mused, tongue sticking out as she twisted the string. “Like that?”

“Sort of. Now flick your second fingers around the top line of string, and pull away.”

“Okay,” Elspeth twisted again, and tugged. Knots formed around her fingers and tightened as she pulled. “Hey!” she accused with a laugh, realising what he had done. “You trapped me.”

Daffyd’s eyes sparkled with all manner of mischief. “Keep practising, girly,” he said in a sagely voice.

“Elspeth,” she supplied, untangling the string to begin again. “I’m Elspeth. Well, Elf. Most people call me Elf. What may I call you?”

Daffyd said nothing and simply watched as Elspeth untwisted the string. The silence grew more pointed as the seconds ticked by, and Elspeth swallowed down a pill of bitter regret. Daffyd didn’t trust her with-

“Daffyd,” he supplied quietly. “My name’s Daffyd.”

Elspeth couldn’t stop the sigh of relief, and held out her hand to the boy. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Daffyd.”

“Right,” Daffyd shook, eyeing Elspeth in an odd manner.

Elspeth returned to twisting the loop of twine between her hands, resisting the urge to mentally prompt him to mention the Druid. Coercing friends never ended well.

Again the silence stretched. Across the room, Elspeth could hear Rosamunde and Jes talking in hushed voices, and glanced up to check on them. They were sitting opposite one another, casting worried glances in the direction Vega had disappeared.

Elspeth frowned and sent a probe toward her brother. “ _What’s wrong?_ ”

“ _Nothing. Mind your business._ ”

“ _No, really,_ ” Elspeth pressed. “ _I can help. Is she worried about Obernewtyn?_ ”

“ _No. Shove off. This conversation is private._ ”

“Ugh,” Elspeth sighed with a roll to her eyes, and hunched down further into the seat. She had forgotten what a…brother, Jes could be, and again had to resist the urge to just intrude on their private conversation.

Be better this time, Elspeth, she reminded.

“They came in with you, right?” Daffyd asked.

Elspeth glanced to the boy; his eyes were on the pair.

“Yes,” Elspeth grumbled. “The boy is my brother. The girl is his girlfriend.”

“And you came in with Vega, didn’t you?” he continued speculatively.

Elspeth sat up a little taller, letting the string game droop. “How do you know her?”

Daffyd shrugged evasively. “I know people.”

Elspeth rolled her eyes. Speak less, and say more, she prompted. “Fine. Yes, I came in with Madame Vega. She is in the process of adopting us. We’re bound for Obernewtyn.”

“She’s adopting you?” Daffyd baulked. “I thought they only took misfits to Obernewtyn.”

Elspeth gave him an arch look. “And who says I’m not a misfit?” she whispered, teasing.

Daffyd chuckled awkwardly. “You don’t look like a misfit.”

“And pray, Daffyd,” Elspeth turned her eyes back to her handiwork, “tell me what a misfit should look like?”

“Well, for one thing,” Daffyd motioned toward her. “They’re usually a lot more cautious than you’re being.”

“I’m cautious,” Elspeth returned defensively. “I’m just not paranoid. It’s a dead giveaway.”

“You’re also freely giving out too much information about yourself,” the boy pointed out. “The wrong person might denounce you on half of what you’ve told me.”

Elspeth hazarded him a glance. “But I have a feeling you won’t,” she whispered.

“Right,” Daffyd said again, his expression perplexed. “Well, whether you’re a misfit or not, you’re a laugh, so I say you’re all right with me, Elf.”

“Thanks,” she gave him a small, satisfied smile. Wow, making friends was easy when you just talked to people. “And whether you’re a West coast weaver or not, you’re okay with me too, Daffyd.”

Daffyd’s smile was wide and lit up his whole face. “You happy about going to Obernewtyn then? What’s there for you?”

“My family,” Elspeth replied, unthinking.

“More siblings?” Daffyd queried.

With a slight hesitation, Elspeth nodded. “Sort of,” she dismissed. “Plus I’ve heard there are real farms up there, and mountains that rise for miles, capped with perfect, actual snow.” 

“Sounds idyllic,” Daffyd nodded knowingly. “Much of the Highlands are, though. Apart from, you know, the stretches of endless blacklands and firestorms of certain death.”

Elspeth gave a little snort, her eyes trained on the string as she wove her thumbs back through the design. “I suspect that’ll retreat far enough to make a permanent pass possible in the near future.”

“Do you now?”

Elspeth nodded, glancing up as movement to the distant right caught her attention. Madame Vega had returned with the tall and hook-nosed Justice Cormack by her side.

With a grin, Elspeth stood and held the string out to Daffyd. “Thanks for letting me play with this.”

“Keep it,” Daffyd waved his hand. “And hey,” he leaned in. “If the glorious fields and organic farming don’t work for you, you should seek out the Druid. I’ll vouch for you,” he held out his hand in farewell.

Elspeth stared down at his hand, trying to act surprised. “You’re with the Druid?” she gasped.

Daffyd scrunched his nose at her. “I don’t have to tell you that not all stories are true.”

She tried to appear hesitant as she shook his hand. “Okay. If Obernewtyn doesn’t work out, I’ll come find you. And if the…D-word doesn’t work out for you-“

Daffyd choked.

“-Then you promise me you’ll come up to Obernewtyn. Okay?”

“Okay,” Daffyd agreed, mock serious. “We have an accord.”

“Great. Bring Gilaine and Saul and - oh!” Elspeth’s eyes brightened as a better idea occurred to her. “The baby! Bring the baby to Obernewtyn.”

“What baby?” Daffyd spluttered.

“You’ll know who I mean when you meet her, trust me,” she turned and walked to her new guardian, leaving a bug-eyed, gaping Daffyd in her wake.

Somehow that had been…too much fun. Elspeth tucked the string into her pocket and strode up to Vega and Cormack. “You’re back! Is everything finalised?” she pipped.

Vega gave Elspeth that amused-perplexed look, but the lawyer answered.

“My, aren’t we merry?” Cormack sneered.

“I know!” Elspeth opened her palms logically. “I had one of the best breakfasts in my life - the eggs at the Grande Duke are to die for. Plus, I made a new friend, and being adopted means I’m not at this moment marching into a dark ravine to harvest a noxious chemical.”

Cormack drew himself up taller and gave Madame Vega a stern, cynical look. “I would advise strongly against your current course. This girl will bring nothing but trouble-”

“Your concern is noted, Justice,” Vega breezed. “But I am keeping them.”

Elspeth frowned at the lawyer. “Are you just mad because adoption doesn’t require a hearing?” she asked innocently.

Jes turned his panicked noise into a cough, but Elspeth kept her attention on the lawyer.

Cormack’s eyes narrowed somehow further, his pointed refusal to look at Elspeth very much noted. “I will forward my invoice to the bursar this afternoon,” he gave Vega a curt nod in farewell.

Elspeth rocked on her heels, suppressing the grin she wanted to wear. “Obernewtyn has a bursar?” she queried Vega.

“Yes,” Madame Vega replied, eyes thoughtful as they followed the lawyer’s back. “Technically we are both a registered charity, and a school.”

Elspeth’s eyes widened. How had she never known that?! “What courses do you offer?”

“Only one,” Madame Vega glanced to Elspeth. “The rehabilitation of Misfit children,” she lifted her eyebrows. “The dear Doctor hopes to submit his findings any season for review. Now,” she glanced over Elspeth’s shoulder, to fix Jes and Rosamunde with a stiff, short smile. “Come along. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Elspeth followed quietly, her thoughts on the reminder of Doctor Seraphim - Stephen, that was his name, wasn’t it? Rushton’s (slightly) younger half-brother. She had - but of course - forgotten about him, too, she noted with shame.

Stephen wouldn’t complicate matters, but if she was going to attempt to do more to heal Ariel’s mind of the trauma that had made him…whatever he had become, she would certainly have to make the same exception for Stephen, particularly since he hadn’t turned into a psychotic murderer. A vague memory of her brief audience with the man suggested to the much more well-read Elspeth that he was neurodivergent from birth, so she made a mental note to ask Roland and Kella if nothing more could be done for him, this time around. Isolating him to his own room and mind seemed like a very un-Obernewtynish way of adopting him into their community.

Her to-do list was getting longer by the second.

Vega was clearly impatient to leave Sutrium, but once they were outside of the city and its horrifically chaotic traffic, Enoch and the mares made good time to their first stop for the night; Arandelft.

After a whispered mental argument, heavily shielded from their new Guardian, Jes convinced Elspeth that the presence of an enormous Herder cloister in the township was a very valid reason for her to keep her mouth shut and head down, if she wanted to make it to Obernewtyn in two nights time.

Begrudgingly, she accepted her brother’s argument and saw nothing of Arandelft besides rows of high stone and a general oppression that tended to circle villages dominated by the Herder Faction at its height.

She was so quiet, in fact, that by the time they left Arandelft, early on the second day, Madame Vega asked Elspeth if she was feeling ill.

Elspeth glanced up from the loop of string she had been idly turning in her fingers, wondering if she had heard correctly. Was…had her efforts at being friendly to Vega and her openness about their abilities actually begun to form some genuine rapport, some concern for her? Surely not so soon. Surely Vega was merely worried that Elspeth would fall ill before they arrived, and might not be fit to assist them, as she had promised.

Nevertheless, she offered the woman beside her a small smile. “I’m okay. Arandelft was just…” she considered, turning her eyes back to her string patterns, allowing a little shudder. “It was cold,” she decided. “I am glad we are leaving that place.”

Vega hmphed and turned her eyes to Jes, sitting across from her. “Get your sister a blanket from the chest behind your seat, will you?”

“Sure,” Jes agreed hurriedly.

Elspeth nearly keeled over when Madame Vega placed the blanket around her shoulders.

“We will be entering the Highlands, soon,” she told them all. “If you think Arandelft is cold, Guanette may be a shock to your systems.”

Elspeth bit back her instinctive reaction to _that_ place name, a widening of eyes her only outward response.

Madame Vega misinterpreted it with a small, tinkling laugh. “In time, you will come to see a…certain beauty in the fresh coldness the high country offers.”

“I am sure you are right,” Rosamunde duly answered. “But thank you all the same, Madame, for the warning.”

Elspeth turned her eyes back down to her hands, occupying them while her mind simultaneously raged and cried in anguish.

Malik was in Guanette.

The bastard rebel leader, responsible for _so many_ deaths, deaths of people and beasts she loved, would be in Guanette, un-demon-banded and unaware of her existence.

The first calming attempt her mind offered was that Malik was, like Ariel, clearly suffering from some kind of trauma to be so fundamentally damaged, and as such, should she not try to rehabilitate him?

But no, she countered at once, brimming with hot rage and slightly less hot logic. They had _tried_ to be patient with that monster, given him the choice to choose the path that didn’t result in death or anguish. They had given him the benefit of the doubt, conceding that in time, he would accept them as equals if they all played their part. And he had betrayed them, time and time again.

Furthermore Elspeth had been in his mind. Before he had been turned into a mental time bomb, nobody had tampered with him. His decisions, his deep-seated hatred was of his own design, his belief that he deserved more than others. Malik had grown up in privileged circumstances, was not unintelligent, and had propped up his prejudices rather than try to learn from experience. A man like that did not have the capacity for true change, no matter the logic presented to him, because he simply didn’t accept he could be wrong. Being wrong meant that he would have to share his power; concede that others, younger and of different gender, and with talents he didn’t possess, were his equal.

The Malik Problem, Elspeth decided, needed to be fixed. Tonight.

As the carriage passed over the moors and skirted the high ranges, Elspeth considered her course. She could not involve Jes or Rosamunde - best to keep them out of this - but that did not mean she necessarily had to take on Malik alone.

There was another Elspeth might be able to go to; it was highly probable that Bergold, and thus Analivia, were in Guanette, as Councilman and her brother’s keeper. Both of Head Councilman Radost’s Guanette-based children eventually needed to be offered sanctuary at Obernewtyn, but tonight?

It would be the work of a moment to out Malik as the leader of the rebellion against their father, and let the Councilcourt mete out his justice and Bergold take the credit for finding him.

But Elspeth had to consider the consequences of such an action. Had Brydda made contact to bring the other rebel leaders together yet? She thought not - she was fairly certain he didn’t start those lines of communication for a couple of years yet. But could she risk it - risk Malik outing the others? Or risk alerting the Council to the presence of a rebellion? They might squash it before it got off the ground. And furthermore, without evidence, the Council would never hold him. Malik was too clever to leave evidence, and Bergold wasn’t quite the strongest of characters to pit against the rebel scum, and she wouldn’t dare put Analivia in a room with him, after all she had been through.

Back to the matter at hand: dealing with Malik. Despite her success with Vega, there was no way the woman was going to let her prodigy roam free around Herder-infested Guanette, so Elspeth resolved that whatever she did, she would have to rely on her farseeking to do it.

Which meant no Analivia.

It was a conundrum that kept Elspeth’s mind occupied for the journey to Guanette, though she made an effort to chat amicably to keep Vega from worrying about - whatever it was that truly worried her.

As night fell they entered the walled monstrosity that was Guanette, and Enoch delivered them directly to the inn she had eaten lunch at the first time around, given its closeness to the main road, so they might be on their way at dawn.

The brusque evening air blowing down from the even higher country tugged at their travelling coats and whipped the blanket Elspeth held around her shoulders like a sail, so it was a relief to be ushered quickly to their rudimentary room, and out of the cold.

Madame Vega took the bed while her three new charges made do with portable cots that squeaked whenever Jes rolled over or Rosamunde kicked her blankets off. Vega had insisted they take one room, and Elspeth wondered why, precisely, the woman was so concerned about keeping them close. Sure, she had ‘found’ a misfit who claimed to be able to do exactly what Alexi needed her to do but - what was Vega's motivation for wanting to find these weapons so badly? She already had all the power she could want. Was her pursuit driven by the dark desire for more power, was it a scholarly pursuit, or...was she operating under someone else’s orders to locate Beforetime technology?

Elspeth sat up suddenly; the cot squeaked in protest.

She shushed the springs with a mental grapple, and stared at the form asleep on the bed.

Vega had produced an eye mask from somewhere, and her golden hair was wound into braids around her head, making her look more than ever like a doll. One arm was up, her open palm resting serenely on the pillow.

Elspeth frowned. No. Now was not the time to explore Vega's motivation and origins. She would have the whole of tomorrow's carriage journey to figure her out.

It was Let’s Stop Malik time.

She lay back on the cot, pulling the sheets high around her body, and sank into her mind, prodding at the reserve of darkness that she had once been so afraid of. Shaping it into a knife, she dove even deeper, scooped up a flicker of raw mindstream to flint along its blade edge and solidify the knife’s shape. Then she rose, shaping a probe to match Malik’s mental signature with an inward grimace, gripped onto the shadow blade, and flew.

What she was about to do was theoretical but if it worked - he’d never dream of saying a word against misfits again.

And if it didn’t work, she could seriously damage him, possibly even spark his hatred of misfits...but the ethical dilemma of literally messing with his mind was overlooked in favour of saving countless lives he would destroy if she didn’t try.

The probe located remarkably quickly, which presented a problem; he was alone, but it was early enough that Malik was awake, and late enough that he was drinking. It made his mind blurry around the edges, and difficult to grip onto, and he would definitely feel what she was about to do.

But then - good. Elspeth smiled triumphantly back in her bed, as though experiencing a pleasant dream. That was the point, ultimately.

In Malik’s apartment, Elspeth pushed her way through the fuzz and into his physical brain. Her presence was muffled by brain matter and his blood rushed around, keeping time through the squishy clouds of grey.

She registered Malik double over with a sudden headache, and waited to adjust to the strangeness no longer. She slid the spirit knife and dreamtrail goop deftly into the junction between his temporal, parietal and frontal lobes.

The groan of Malik experiencing a piercing migraine was satisfying in its own way - but watching the raw, silvery stuff slip off the knife and collect to fill his supramarginal gyrus was even better.

The knife dissolved with a thought; its purpose fulfilled, Elspeth used her locating probe to poke at the region a few times, until it burst to life with bright, humming activity.

With a wheeze, the large, half-drunk man fell forward onto his carpets, gasping for breath.

Elspeth scampered free of his physical mind, letting her probe lurk around his subconscious and wishing she had time to form a spirit body. She would have loved to seen what his aura was doing.

The gasps continued, and Elspeth was surrounded by feelings, first Malik’s feelings of confusion and anger. Then there were more feelings - the anxiety of a neighbour over a debt owed to his builder. The curios hunger of an owl as it flew overhead, observing the ground for movement. The fear of another neighbour’s child, scared of the shadows in their room. The guilt of the child’s mother, in not accepting the position at the Cloister so she could raise her child for just a little longer.

Elspeth was able to experience the feelings with enough context to know they were not her own, but Malik - oh, he had no such luxury. He felt it all - his own feelings, and theirs, amplified in their beautiful, truthful, deafening glory.

She had activated the part of his brain that felt empathy, beyond its neurotypical function and into the realm of Empath ability with one teensy alteration; he had no capacity to control or project emotions on others, because he wasn’t an Empath.

But now, he would feel everything. All the time. Everywhere he went, he’d be accompanied by the feelings of those around him.

When Elspeth pulled her probe back to her own mind and nestled deeper into her bed, leaving a disoriented, sobbing Malik in his apartment, she had a moment of wondering if she would regret not simply taking the spirit knife and slicing through his cord, ending him swiftly, silently.

But she pushed the thought aside. A simple death was too kind for a man like Malik, and another would rise up in his place if he fell. Besides, she was resolved not to kill, if she could help it, this time around.

She would have to arrange for someone to keep an eye on him - once again, Analivia sprung to mind - but perhaps her work tonight would be enough, for now. Perhaps making him feel all the feels would be a catalyst for change - because pain inflicted would fall back on him, tenfold. He would need to start caring about what he did to others.

Or the awakening would send him barking mad, in the which case, the Herders in Guanette would deal with him.

After giving her mind a mental shower with a couple of deep breathing exercises - being in Malik’s made her feel dirty - Elspeth settled her thoughts, wondering if this was the deed that would ricochet her back into the Eden timeline, or if she was truly going to be allowed to set foot in Obernewtyn tomorrow.


	5. Fear, Itself

Elspeth didn’t sleep well, her mind drifting on the edge of consciousness just waiting for Maruman to interrupt her the moment she relaxed.

But the not-a-cat didn’t appear to tell her off about Malik.

So the girl was ready to depart as soon as the others woke. After a rather heavy breakfast of yoghurt and for some reason, cheesecake, Madame Vega asked Elspeth to take her bags to the carriage while she and the others finished preparing.

Elspeth bounded down to Enoch, ready to put immediate thoughts of Malik behind her, and after explaining why she was there, asked if he would let her ride up the front until they reached the border of the Blacklands.

Enoch hesitated part way through lifting one of Vega’s many bags into the coach. He threw Elspeth a suspicious, furrowed look. “I dinnay think that’s a good idea,” he wandered off, toward the horses.

Blinking at his gruff manner - and, had his accent always been so thick? - Elspeth trailed after him. “Please?” she tried again. “I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

“Well now, that remains to be seen doesnay it?” Enoch groaned as he reached up to pass the reigns over Avra’s waiting head. Elspeth winced at the bit going into her mouth, reminding herself to find the teknoguilder who’d come up with the design for the false bits the moment she could.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elspeth averted her eyes, scuffing a boot against the cobbled stable yard floor.

Enoch huffed in amusement. “Look lass, I can see ye’ve been through a trial an’ still have an open mind, an’ mayhap that’s why ye’re all,” he waved toward her, searching, “flippy about this new chapter of yer life, but Obernewtyn is no place fer games,” he warned. “Ye’d do well to settle yerself down before ye meet Master Seraphim, an’ really listen to what he hafta say before ye go mouthin’ off.”

Elspeth briefly wondered exactly which Master Seraphim Enoch was referring to, but threw him a look of concern instead. “I listen before I speak!” Elspeth defended. “But I see no reason in being all, stuffy and suspicious, all the time,” she went on.

“A little suspicion wouldnay go ye astray, that’s fer sure.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Elspeth brushed an idle hand down Mira’s flank, sending tidings to the mare. “I’d much rather keep my eyes and heart open to opportunity.”

Enoch grunted. “What kinda opportunity do ye expect to find up there, lass? It’s naught but a farm and institution for the weak an’ frail o’ mind.”

Elspeth shrugged and sent Enoch a secret smile. If only he knew the potential of what was ‘up there’. “I expect to find my destiny,” she evaded.

“Destiny?” he barked a laugh. “Can ye have a look about fer mine too, while yer at it?”

“Madame Vega said they needed my help,” Elspeth continued, undeterred, “and she agreed to adopt my brother and friend, to get us out of that awful orphanhome,” Elspeth told him, wondering if he really hadn’t been made aware of what was going on with his passengers. “So, excuse me for looking forward to leaving that life behind us, and having some hope for my future.”

Enoch settled down with a shake to his head. “Ye’re a righ’ laff, lass,” he admitted.

“Elspeth,” she corrected.

“Okay then,” Enoch acknowledged. “Mayhap ye’re right, Elspeth, an’ Obernewtyn holds yer destiny. An’, mayhap it doesnay. What then? You cannay exactly up an’ leave, if the Masters want ye to be there.”

Watch me, Elspeth arched an eyebrow. “There are worse fates than working on an honest farm in the mountains.”

“That there are,” Enoch ground pointedly, pushing Elspeth’s shoulder with a thick, gnarly finger. “Ye remember that, while yer on the look-out for yer destiny,” he shook his head as he wandered back to the carriage.

“So, can I ride up with you?” Elspeth asked quickly.

“Not a good idea, lass,” Enoch repeated, though a little more kindly than before. He flicked his head toward the stable doors, and Elspeth caught sight of the rest of her party approaching.

“Maybe another time,” Elspeth conceded.

And so the journey through the Highlands was taken in from the carriage, instead of the front seat. Elspeth supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised; Enoch had been hesitant enough to let her when she was with that passed-out Guardian she’d been travelling with, and Vega wasn’t anywhere near to being passed out (and was infinitely more important).

She considered asking Vega if she could ride up front, and then wondered why she was worried. It would change nothing significant about her path forward. So, Enoch wouldn’t mention Rushton to her, and she wouldn’t see the Guanette bird fly overhead (it was probably an entirely different day to last time, too, so there was no guarantee the Agyllian would be circling so they could catch sight of it).

So she settled back and let herself simply soak in the view of the mountain pass, whose shape she had once known as well as her mind. As the tears of realisation sprung, Elspeth acknowledged why she had been so eager, so desperate to ride up front. She had wanted to use Enoch’s ready chatter as a distraction from - this. Her thoughts of the places she had loved, and accepted she would never see again.

“Elspeth?” Rosamunde asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”

She felt Vega and Jes’ eyes turn toward her in unison, and laughed as she sniffed and wiped the corners of her eyes. “I’m…it’s just all so beautiful,” she managed, motioning toward the vista outside of the carriage, her face screwing up as the tears kept flowing.

Crying is good, the gentle voice of Sentinel reminded her, a memory from one of their sessions. To let yourself cry is a strength. To let others see you cry is true courage.

Jes’ brows crossed in confusion as Madame Vega cleared her throat.

“This region may look beautiful on the surface,” Vega warned. “But the White Valley is often plagued with Firestorms. There is much death and destruction in these mountains."

“We’re in the White Valley?” Elspeth asked, a distraction from her yearning tears. “I heard Henry Druid died up here.”

Jes sucked in a breath of warning, but Madame Vega merely laughed quietly. “I doubt even the Black mountains could kill that stubborn old goat,” she waved her hand dismissively.

Elspeth quirked her eyebrows with interest. “Do you know of him?” she asked with a small leftover sniffle.

Madame Vega passed her a cloth hanky - her tight-lipped smile and lifted eyebrows said yes. “Of course not. Henry Druid is a traitor to the Herders, and the Council.”

“Someone at my last ‘home said he tried to cross the Blacklands,” Rosamunde spoke with distaste, “and he’s now a mutant, roaming the ruins at night and searching for brains to feed on.”

Elspeth noticed Vega’s eye-roll, and Jes spoke up next.

“I heard he took half of Herder Isle with him when he left,” Elspeth’s brother hazarded. “What do you think he wants?”

“Knowledge,” Madame Vega supplied without skipping a beat. “Understanding. Clarity. As do we all.”

“Because knowledge is power?” Elspeth asked, smiling when Vega glanced at her curiously. “I mean,” she explained, “I’ve heard it said he was searching for Beforetime technology, and that was why the Herders kicked him out of the Faction. He sought knowledge,” Elspeth laughed quietly. “And the Faction worried of the power it would give him - that they wouldn't be able to control him."

Jes and Rosamunde exchanged a nervous glance. “Elf…” Jes began gently. 

But Vega’s eyes were only speculative, before she turned her gaze to the window, and beyond.

Interesting, Elspeth noted, wondering if she should have prodded more definitively. Her suspicions about Vega’s origins, not to mention certain…resemblances between Vega, Erin and Gilaine was painting a clearer picture of the woman’s motivations, this time around. Not to mention Daffyd had seemed to recognise Vega.

If Madame Vega was in league with Henry Druid…it was possible she was even his daughter, or niece…it did somewhat explain her presence at Obernewtyn and her interest in the diaries of Marisa Seraphim. It was possible she had been sent to form an alliance with the existing Master, and had even put the idea of Marisa’s knowledge into Alexi’s head in the first place, as a starting point to finding weapons the Druid could use against the Faction.

If this were true, Elspeth had to wonder how they had come up with the idea of using a misfit to decode Marisa’s thoughts? The Druid abhorred deviations, of any kind.

But Vega? Vega was a misfit, just as Gilaine (her probable sister or cousin) was.

Elspeth studied her while the woman continued to stare out of the carriage window. She had been so afraid of Vega last time, but today? She was certainly guarding her thoughts, and keeping her eyes open but - Elspeth did not fear her. Vega had used - might still try to use misfits as expendable resources, as a means to an end, but Elspeth was confident that she could convince her to do otherwise.

Elspeth sat back and retrieved the string from Daffyd from her coat pocket, twisting the loop around her thumbs and fingers. Whether Vega was a Druid or not, she was operating under a very Druid-ish mindset.

Soon enough, the call was given that they were entering the Blackland fringe, and Enoch stopped to bag the horse’s hooves.

“I can’t believe we have to cross actual Blacklands to reach Obernewtyn,” Jes commented with a hasty, worried glance to the now-shuttered openings, where windows had once been.

“It won’t last forever. This patch will be clear by the end of the season,” Elspeth replied, distracted by the intricate pattern of knots she had been weaving. She stuck her tongue between her teeth as she twisted her thumbs under the sixth line in, faltering as she realised all eyes were upon her.

She looked up, offering Madame Vega a sweet smile as she extracted her hands from the string and patted the knot in her lap. “Are there masks we might wear, to avoid breathing toxic fumes?”

“Yes,” Vega drawled thoughtfully, nodding toward the chest that every other supply had come from. “Jes, would you-?”

“Of course,” Elspeth’s brother was swift to offer his assistance, throwing open the lid and retrieving several pieces of black cloth that seemed long enough to tie around one’s head.

Elspeth bit her tongue to keep from laughing once the face masks were in place; the resemblance to Miryum’s beloved Coercer Knights was strong. Perhaps, Elspeth would join them for their antics. They had been a tight-knit bunch, and she bet that they had had some fun. But she had always been too busy with guild affairs to consider joining them and-

With a knock to the wall - Enoch’s signal - the carriage juddered and rolled onward, and a new thought entered Elspeth’s mind as they commenced their journey into the dreaded Blacklands.

The Guilds.

High above them, thunder rolled ominously, and lightning crashed, lighting up the tiny gaps between the shutters. Vega tensed; Rosamunde squeaked and leapt toward Jes, who held her close, his eyes wide and fearful.

Elspeth sat back, knocking her head against the carriage wall behind her a few times, and stared at the ceiling.

Was there really any point to being Farseeker Guildmistress this time?

Swallowing her guilt at leaving them, Elspeth thought back to that time of life, when her days had been consumed with meetings and decisions made for others.

How had she become Guildmistress of a guild in the first place? Some latent longing to belong, despite knowing it could never last? Probably. She allowed herself that concession.

Yes, she resolved. She still wanted to be part of a guild.

But she would never agree to being Farseeker Guildmistress, just in case. Ceirwan, her dearest friend and, she let herself be frank, caretaker, deserved that role much more than she ever would. 

And it meant that Rushton certainly would never be tempted to _dare_ leave her as Master of Obernewtyn in his stead. Brr.

Rushton, her mind made her consider next. Rushton. Yes. Rushton. Hmm. Many complications lay down that path, and there was no better time to consider them all while crossing the expanse of ruined, tormented Blacklands.

Did she want to pursue a relationship with him someday, knowing how distant they had grown from one another at Eden? Not to mention that technically, at least mentally, she was ten years his senior? Their age gap had seem scandalous when she had been four years his junior. And really, he wouldn’t start to have romantic feelings for her (she hoped) for _at least_ another four years, until she came of age. Otherwise…Ye Gods. There was a barrel filled with questions about the appropriateness of a nineteen-year-old’s interest in a fourteen-year-old girl. Not to mention Gilbert and his…obsession, the inappropriate kiss Swallow pushed onto her when she was sixteen, the whole…Dameon thing in general.

It wasn’t the moment Elspeth was truly glad to have been offered a second chance, but it was strong contender for the moment.

No, she resolved as the thunder crackled and lightning flashed around them, causing Rosamunde to squeak and hide her face periodically in Jes’ armpit. No romance, no matter how cute or dashing or broody nineteen-year-old Rushton was. She was too old for him, and to consider it would be highly inappropriate. She would not take advantage of him.

And she did not need a host of others falling in love with her along the way, not to mention her older brother might have a thing or two to say about anyone who even tried to look at his inexperienced little sister. As much as she loved Jes, she didn’t want to risk enduring a ‘talk’ from him.

She’d sit down and have a long, hard think about whether she even wanted a relationship after she’d dealt with more urgent, life-threatening issues. Then she could maybe even look for someone her own (mental) age, who shared her interests and general mindset and taste in television shows, at minimum.

And besides, she was a very different person now. The chances were that none of the men (boys) who had shown an interest in her would even like what they found, this time. She was not the aloof and frightened girl she had once been, hesitant about her powers, uncertain in her own skin, and searching for approval even as she held everyone at arm’s length. This time, she had emotions on her side. This time, she could talk to the men who had shown interest in her, and swiftly talk them out of their extremely bad decision.

And this time, her eyes widened in realisation, she wouldn’t have to hide her quest from everybody she knew. Hiding it had served - utterly no purpose, in the end, but had served to isolate her during her formative years. This time - she would not suffer those years alone, agonising over clues she barely understood. She could talk to people. She could involve people, enlist the help of her peers and friends.

With everybody’s focus on reaching Redland Bay, she might be able to free Sentinel and deactivate the BOT in the space of maybe, two years.

Her mind turned to the Quest that had defined her purpose in life for so long, leaving her flat and even further isolated at its bittersweet end. Outside of the carriage, the thunder grew more distant, and Elspeth told herself that it was a sign. She didn’t know what manner of sign, but she clung to it, because it seemed like the kind of thing she was meant to do when considering aspects of her Quest, and old habits died hard.

What did she need to complete her Quest, precisely? The sword and the drive from Sador, containing her and Maruman’s voices. But there were words, right? An important phrase? Had she even said it? And Swallow’s blood? Had his DNA been involved at all, during that blur of chaos they had suffered through?

Blinking with weariness and feeling an oncoming headache, Elspeth longed for some paracetamol for a solid three seconds before she remembered there was no such thing yet, then wondered if she had actually blocked the specifics of her Quest from her mind, or if they had truly been too complicated for her to retain in long term memory once the task had been completed.

Surely not. In Sador, there were answers. As soon as Obernewtyn…returned to some semblance of normality, she would start making plans for an expedition to Jakoby’s world.

To punctuate the decision, thunder grumbled in the distance, and while Rosamunde used it as a (weak) excuse to cuddle closer to Jes, again, Elspeth smiled at the sense of resolution it brought.

The Blacklands were (practically) behind her, and she was nearly home.

—

She hadn’t expected the return to be quite so emotionally draining, but sufficed to say, Elspeth started crying as soon as Enoch wheeled the cart underneath the iron wrought sign declaring they were entering private property, and didn’t stop crying for the entire journey along the driveway.

“I’m just so happy,” she tried to tell the others through her wails.

“Stop this nonsense,” Madame Vega snipped after enduring a solid five minutes of Elspeth’s relentless sobs. “We made a deal, Miss Gordie. I have fulfilled my part, in adopting you and your,” her gaze flickered to the seat opposite, “family. The least you could do,” Vega threw a subtle, wary glance toward the house, “is look grateful, when we arrive,” she hissed the last. “Or I have half a mind to send you straight back down to Kinraide, young lady.”

Elspeth choked up again, burying her face in her hands as the carriage rounded the fountain and approached the door. She was going to have to block her crying, she knew it now, but she wasn’t happy about it.

With a nod, she collected her grief, her longing, and her unspent guilt over all that had happened, all she had let happen, and pushed it back behind a wall that she could take apart later, in the privacy of a bed, or a haystack, or the girl’s bathroom, where it was expected.

She had a lot of other things to be happy about, so once the barrier was in place to capture the ache of returning to a home she thought she would never lay eyes on again, Elspeth wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she explained to Vega. “I think I have control over myself now.”

“Good,” both Madame Vega and Jes said in unison.

Rosamunde made a strangled sound of one suppressing a nervous laugh.

Elspeth ignored them all and leant sideways, resting her arms on the edge of the open window to stare at the dark, foreboding, glorious, beloved, stupid, rambling house as they came upon it. The stiff, cold air whipped against her cheeks, the tiny specks of ice stinging, but Elspeth found it invigorating. The gas lanterns were already lit - being in a valley, sunset at Obernewtyn was a long, drawn out affair - and the orange glow splattered the grey facade with flickering patterns of ghoulish yellow that less wise children might have thought to be Beforetime spirits.

When the carriage drew to a halt before the front doors, Elspeth stilled, and stared. Her brother, Rosamunde, and Madame Vega assembled their carry-on belongings and commenced their descent.

Idly, Elspeth grabbed for her hat and stuffed it on her head.

Marisa’s map. No. The Twentyfamilies map. Or - was it both? However had the gypsies crossed the Blacklands blocking the path up to Obernewtyn in those days? A question for the ages.

She peered at it through the dim, grainy light and considered the strangeness of the mythical creatures woven into its design. Aesthetically, it did not suit the house at all, but there was a certain sense of nostalgia to the carved design that made Elspeth wonder if it was really worth burning them this time, considering she had no intentions of hiding what they were, and that from a humanities perspective, it was an interesting object. Not to mention, Swallow’s people might prefer to have their work returned to them, once it had served its purpose. The Guildleaders didn’t need weighty golden armbands.

Between the design panels sat the phrases that Elspeth distinctly remembered returning through the Dreamtrails to collect in a rubbing. She supposed that this time, she wouldn’t need to do that at all.

As the party ascended the landing, Elspeth put a plan into action.

“What’s that?” she pointed.

Madame Vega stopped, mid-sentence, and stared from Elspeth, to the scratchings on the doorway. “What is what?”

“These markings,” Elspeth peered curiously. “They don’t match the design at all.”

“Elspeth,” Jes reprimanded, strained. “Not two seconds here and you’re criticising the architecture.”

Madame Vega drew a breath, but stopped short, and considered Elspeth instead. “No, it’s all right. What do you think they represent?” she queried lightly.

Having already told her she knew about Marisa Seraphim, Elspeth wondered if Vega had possibly already connected Elspeth’s interest in the doors to the woman who had (supposedly) commissioned them.

Elspeth leaned closer, peering at what she knew to be the Gadi script. Not that Gadi was meant to be written, ever, but Cassy’s people had made an exception, to hide the message meant for her to find. It had obscurely referenced how to find the Sentinel, and the controls to disable the BOT, and which keys she would need to do so.

“I’m not sure,” Elspeth determined, standing tall and brushing off the front of her coat. “It just doesn’t sit right,” she murmured.

“Hmm,” Vega replied noncommittally, leaning up to ring the bell set into the rock facade. “Can you…” she cast a subtle glance Jes’ way. “Sense anything else, from its design?”

Elspeth arched an eyebrow. “You mean, can I figure out what the people who carved it were thinking?” she whispered.

Madame Vega’s piercing eyes met Elspeth’s, full of warning, but before she could say anything, a Guardian appeared, dressed in the classic white tunic with bronzed dressings that they had been fond of wearing. Were fond of wearing.

“Madame, we received word of your arrival this morning. The Master is most excited by your,” the Guardian - Myrna, Elspeth remembered with a twinge of triumph - glanced over their three new charges, to settle on Rosamunde, “discovery.”

Elspeth glanced between Rosamunde, who looked bemused, and Guardian Myrna. “Oh! No no,” Elspeth raised her hand, capturing the woman’s attention. “It’s me. I’m the discovery.”

Madame Vega closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. “Guardian Myrna,” she seemed calm, once she spoke. “This is Elspeth Gordie, her brother Jes Gordie, and Miss Rosamunde Page, all of whom I have adopted on behalf of the estate. Have the rooms been prepared?”

“Right,” Myrna faltered, giving Elspeth about six rather confused double-takes. “Yes Madame, of course. Young Ariel saw to it personally.”

Elspeth bit down hard on her tongue and worked on keeping her expression schooled to one of eager interest. Ariel at this stage of his life was a terrible bully; she had no doubt he had ensured someone else had carried out the duty of making their beds for the night.

“Excellent,” Madame Vega did actually seem pleased by this, and passed Guardian Myrna her carry-on bag as she stepped into the entryway.

Jes sent Elspeth a wide-eyed look, and she felt his probe clambering against her shield for entry.

Startled by the contact, Elspeth lowered her frontal shield. “ _What?_ ”

“ _Behave._ ”

“ _I am behaving._ ”

“ _No, Elf I mean it,_ ” Jes’ eyes widened even more. “ _Keep your head down, at least until we know what we’ve gotten ourselves into._ ”

“ _You know Vega will know we are farseeking,_ ” she pointed out. “ _She’ll think we’re plotting against her. If you want to say something to me - just say it,_ ” she shoved him from her mind and raised her shield.

With a small noise of frustration, Jes shook his head and ushered Rosamunde into the main building.

But Elspeth faltered on the landing, lifting a hand to the half-open doors again. With a small, pensive smile, and another quick shove of her tears behind the Wall of Impending Grief for Bedtime, Elspeth hurried in after her brother and friend.

She was home.

—

Her repressed tears had lulled Elspeth to sleep, and the girl woke, feeling alarmingly well-rested, to the chittering of a pair of birds outside of the single window between her and Rosamunde’s beds.

She sat up, taking in the muted golden light of the valley’s languid dawn, and frowned at the otherwise silent building. Something was wrong. She was supposed to have been woken by Selmar, and then again by Ariel. Wasn’t she?

She turned to check on Rosamunde, still asleep, her face a picture of peace and her braids wound around the top of her head. She hugged her pillow tight to her, and seemed so young and vulnerable that Elspeth experienced a moment of panic; she had brought them here, before Obernewtyn was safe. How could she have done this to them?

But. No. Better than the alternative. So long as she kept them close, she was capable of protecting them.

And the sooner she met with both Ariel and Alexi, the better.

Her mind eased, Elspeth swung her legs out of the bed and took a moment to eye her lanky, skinny legs and feet that didn’t seem to fit her. She was like a gangly puppy at this age, all legs and awkwardness.

At the reminder of dog-like-creatures, Elspeth rose and dressed quietly, determined to search for the wolves Ariel had tormented into hunting for him, and if not them, maybe Sharna. She could work on a plan to heal their minds and release them back into the wild, before he could do any more damage to them, or they could do any damage to…anyone else.

Rosamunde was a light sleeper, and no sooner had Elspeth tucked a borrowed shirt into some borrowed clean trousers, the girl in the bed opposite woke, and stretched out.

“My word,” Rosamunde commented through a yawn. “It is rather pleasant to not wake to the sound of Allison’s snoring every two minutes.”

Elspeth huffed, having no idea who she meant. “Or the clang of the Orphanhome bell, summoning us to commence another day’s slave labour.”

Rosamunde huffed a small laugh, leaning up to peer at Elspeth with the vaguest curiosity. “You didn’t fear coming here for a single moment, did you?”

Elspeth shook her head, turning to collect a few more layers of clothing from the supplies chest at the end of her bed. “It couldn’t have been any worse than the life we led before,” she covered lightly. 

Rosamunde fell silent, and Elspeth finished dressing, tucking her bob - which was far too short to tie back, yet - behind her ears, and cursing her bangs as they flopped against her forehead and prickled the edge of her vision.

Her brother’s girlfriend laughed from across the room, and when Elspeth shot her a frustrated look, Rosamunde rose from her bed and held her hands out. “Can I fix that for you?”

Elspeth scrunched her nose. “What. My hair?”

Rosamunde’s smile widened and she nodded, scooting toward the end of her bed and collecting the bag she had carried with her, during their journey north. “I’m sure I have something here,” she murmured, rustling around in the woven bag and extracting a piece of cloth.

“A headband?” she offered.

Elspeth’s eyes widened at the offer, and she launched herself at the strip of rounded, stiffened, lemon-yellow cloth. “You’re a life saver.”

“What are sisters for if not to resolve hair emergencies?” Rosamunde laughed, positioning the band over the back of Elspeth’s ears and drawing it up, to settle it on the top of her head.

Elspeth shot the girl a questioning look. “Is there something Jes forgot to tell me?”

After a moment of confusion, Rosamunde’s eyes widened and she covered her pinked face with her hands and squeaked. “Adopted sister, obviously. Jes and I aren’t,” she attempted to dismiss. “You know.”

“You know, I don’t think I do?” Elspeth chimed in a sing-song voice, eyeing the reddening girl. Sorry, Valda. “I’ve never had a sister before.”

“Well,” Rosamunde lowered her hands to grip the blanket either side of her. “I am happy to be...yours.”

“Aww, thanks, sister,” Elspeth smiled sweetly. “So you do intend to bond with my brother?”

“Ugh, I take it back,” Rosamunde covered her face, her groan muffled by her hands.

Elspeth could have teased her some more but she felt the itch of approach and glanced, wide-eyed, to the doorway. It was one of the two males she had been waiting to meet, and assess, and potentially either stop at once or promise to rehabilitate.

The red-faced Rosamunde peeked through her fingers and then sat up when she noticed Elspeth’s attentions elsewhere.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s coming,” Elspeth murmured, heart racing as what would either be a disastrous or victorious introduction drew nearer. Ariel was in the southern hallway. He’d be here in under a minute.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Trust me,” Elspeth shot Rosamunde a stoic look, so suddenly serious that the girl froze.

Elspeth sighed and made herself smile. “Get dressed, as quickly as you can,” she hissed, “and join me in the hallway.”

“Okay.”

Pursing her lips, taking a more active role in seeking out the Destroyer, Elspeth marched toward the door. She opened it, wearing a casual facade that barely concealed the buzz of anticipation, and clicked it closed behind her, just as carefully.

The hall was empty, but Elspeth could sense Ariel’s approach. She left his thoughts alone; it was safe to assume he had been sent to rouse them and assign duties until the Doctor or Alexi Seraphim wished to see them (Elspeth assumed it would be within days, if not hours, this time).

She leaned against the door and waited, letting her senses return to her when her hearing picked up the distinctive clack-clack of the shiny black shoes Ariel had worn when he was ten.

When he turned the corner into the eastern hallway, Elspeth lifted her head and stared at him. The boy was just as she remembered that first morning; all angelic blonde curls and pale skin. As he drew closer, she realised he hadn’t noticed her yet, lurking in the shadows of the door to her room, so she cleared her throat.

Ariel glanced up quickly and stilled as he fixed Elspeth with a wide-eyed stare, but the stunned-deer expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced with a narrowed, speculative leer. “You are the new girl?”

“I am one of them,” Elspeth conceded.

Ariel’s eyes flickered over Elspeth’s appearance, taking in her height, she supposed. He fixed her with a sneer - and Elspeth had to muffle her laughter with a swift, thick swallow. The face looked ridiculous on him.

“Which one are you, then?”

Elspeth cocked her head at him. “Didn’t they tell you?” she asked in a pleasant, disarming voice.

Ariel faltered, then settled on a scowl, trying out all of his favourite faces on her. “They clearly didn’t tell you who I am.”

“Oh, but they did,” Elspeth smiled merrily. “You’re Ariel. You’re Alexi’s son.”

Ariel’s blue eyes boggled out of his head. “Who told you that?”

Elspeth rocked back on her heels, considering. Who _had_ she learnt that from, in the end? Some random Herder? “I think I heard Justice Cormack talking about it while we were being adopted,” she mused. “Which…I guess in a way, makes us siblings now,” Elspeth let the thought out as it arrived in her head. “Though naturally, none of us will be able to inherit - probably a good thing, or we’d be competing with each other for the house,” Elspeth laughed and waved a hand.

Ariel fell into complete silence, and Elspeth realised she had just called this little…the Destroyer her brother. “Or not,” she breathed. “So. Farms or kitchens?”

The boy fixed Elspeth with a searching look, and Elspeth realised, with a start of amusement, that _this_ was his ‘empathy face’. She felt his probe butt against her shield. Elspeth caught the distant impression of fear on the other side, and it only took a moment to realise what he was trying to do.

She cleared her throat pointedly, and, lifting her eyebrows at the sheer strength of will behind him, pushed his probe back toward him. She was stronger. “We’ll have none of that now, young man,” she whispered.

Ariel choked. “You - but you’re - how dare you!” he spluttered.

“No,” Elspeth pointed sternly at the boy. “How dare you? You can’t do _that_ to me, and then ‘how dare you’ me. Look,” the girl sighed, accepting that for a first encounter, it could have been worse. “I know you’re scared and you’re trying to - assert your position-“

“I’m not-!”

“Shut your mouth and listen for once in your life,” Elspeth commanded quietly.

Ariel did just the opposite, and gaped at her.

“I know you’re scared,” Elspeth repeated, lowered her voice even further, “because - you just took that fear you’re feeling, and tried to make me feel it instead. And I’m going to tell you this only once,” Elspeth leaned down, placing her hands on her knees so she could meet Ariel, eye to eye.

The young boy startled back a little, his eyes glinting with malice.

It was that glint, a hardness that shouldn’t have been in one so young yet, that encouraged Elspeth to purse her lips and rethink the scare she had been about to give him.

He was a ten-year-old Empath. He had done bad things with that Empathy and if she tried to control him with fear, she was no better than the adults in his life who had made him into this.

He was a child. He had been hurt by those he should have felt love, trust and comfort from. He had been through enough.

Somewhere between being born and his father’s experiments, this child had found a way to deal with his emotions - by bundling them up and pushing them onto others.

That was a bad habit, not an irreparable defect. 

She loosened a probe and pushed it toward him, knocking against his feeble shield. “ _I’m here to help, Ariel,_ ” she made sure her mind voice was quiet, unthreatening. “ _And I won’t let him hurt you any more._ ”

It was a speech that she had, in fact, prepared for Selmar, but it probably applied to a lot of the misfits here, so there was no reason not to use those words now.

Naturally, rather than accepting the consolation, young Ariel’s eyes widened, briefly glanced up, to try see his brain, and then locked onto Elspeth’s.

“You’re a freak,” he whispered, accusing.

“So are you,” Elspeth countered steadily with a smirk, standing tall as she heard sounds coming from her room - Rosamunde’s approach. “ _Someone’s coming,_ ” she pushed into his mind.

“Stop,” Ariel swatted at the side of his head, as though there was a bug there, his accusing gaze back on Elspeth as though she had delivered the blow. “Stop doing that!” he uttered, nervous eyes flickering to the door. “The Herders would burn you if they found out about you.”

“As they would you,” Elspeth arched an eyebrow, wondering at the point behind these strange little threats. It was clear he had been taught by someone to abhor misfits, too. Adding to the fear of discovery, of course, which he would then push on literally anyone who got near him.

With a sigh of understanding, Elspeth leaned against the wall as Rosamunde opened the door, her clothes and hair neat and a small, cautious smile on her face as she regarded Elspeth’s state of relaxation.

“Hello,” Rosamunde noticed Ariel standing there, held a hand out to the bemused boy. “I’m Rosamunde.”

Ariel’s startled eyes dragged from Elspeth to look at Rosamunde’s hand. He wrinkled his nose at it. “I’m supposed to touch you?”

Elspeth snorted a laugh to diffuse the situation. “Rosamunde, this is Ariel. He’s been sent to show us around.”

“ _Haven’t you?_ ” she mentally shoved at his mind.

“Ariel, I see,” Rosamunde crouched down, inspecting him with a little tuck to her brow. Ariel tried to lean back but his feet seemed rooted to the spot.

“That was really rude, Ariel,” Rosamunde commented lightly. “I was just saying hello. But, thank you for making our beds yesterday.”

“What?” Ariel stuttered, glancing warily between the two girls.

Rising to her full height, Rosamunde let it go and offered Elspeth a smile. “Do you think we have missed breakfast?” she arched her back a little. “And where’s Jes?”

Elspeth shrugged. “Our guide will be able to answer both, I expect. Ariel?” she prompted, blinking at him innocently.

Ariel finally took a step backwards and held out his hands, making a warding off sign. “You’re both crazy,” he uttered - a hissed, yet somehow shrill sound.

“Rude,” Rosamunde tsked softly.

“You think this is a game,” another step back, which must have given Ariel the confidence to find his snarl. “You just wait. Wait until he starts experimenting on you, on your mind.”

“What do you mean?” Rosamunde said in a distant tone.

On the fringes of awareness, Elspeth picked up Ariel trying to push another bundle of fear onto Rosamunde’s unsuspecting mind.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just trying to scare you,” Elspeth widened her eyes at the child pointedly, and swatted the probe away.

He actually winced when his emotions bounced back to haunt him. “Show yourselves around the farm, misfit pigs.”

He turned and ran, and Elspeth had to muffle another laugh as the child nearly slipped over his feet in his desperation to go.

Ariel was so...not intimidating. And he carried all that fear, all the fear he had made others feel toward him! It was odd to feel it at all, but Elspeth had to admit that she felt pity for this small Ariel, who was definitely on his way to becoming the unhinged monster of her old timeline, but at least she could actually do something about it this time. The child needed boundaries, and - well. Support. Therapy. A proper dose of vitamin D. She would work on him.

At least now she understood how his Talent had developed, how he controlled others, and had felt so little remorse. It was kind of the reverse of what she had done to Malik; instead of feeling everything, Ariel detached from what was happening by forcing his feelings elsewhere, onto others. It was the move of a desperate, frightened child, not a monster.

Yet.

“Strange little boy,” Rosamunde murmured after his retreating form, crossing her arms. “The Overseers would have put him on Whitestick duties for a month for that performance.”

Elspeth shook her head after him, resolving to try again, after she had visited Alexi and...sorted him out, one way or another. Perhaps when the threat was removed, Ariel would come to trust her.

Someone had once told her people couldn’t truly change who they were, but Elspeth got the distinct impression that Ariel has never been given an opportunity to be anything but what Alexi wanted him to be.

“He’s just scared, I feel kind of sorry for him. Let’s find the dining hall.”


	6. Same Time, Same Place

Elspeth couldn’t resist taking a long, winding path toward the detached building the Obernewtyn inhabitants took their meals in, under the pretence of having no idea where she was going.

“Where is everybody?” Rosamunde asked, tilting her head at the old, slightly twisted tower that housed the estate’s clock and signal bell. It read half-past eleven. “Are we the only one’s here?”

Elspeth shrugged. Mid-summer, almost midday; they were probably all on the farms. “Let’s find out.”

She sauntered toward the overgrown weeds that would become the Healing guild’s prized herb garden, past the long, whitewashed facade that would become the back entrance to the Healer Hall. In years to come the garden would reek with competing aromas, but today the air was sweet with honeysuckle flowers spilling over the garden wall. The oak trees were much smaller than she remembered them being; the lush green leaves ruffled as the high breezes swept through the alley. The creepers on the stone wall circling the courtyard had just begun their work at picking free the mortar. To remove it now might save the Teknoguilders that lengthy reconstruction project someday, but it was too lovely to see the new shoots clinging onto the stone, and the sunlight hit the green at an angle that made the star-shaped leaves glow. And besides, who was she to spoil Garth’s fun?

Elspeth drank in the sights, the smells, and basked in the beloved familiarity. She let herself enjoy Obernewtyn now, because she hadn’t really let herself last time, refusing to become too attached, because someday, she would have to leave it all behind.

Well. She had, hadn’t she?

“There’s someone - oh. Looks like Jes found a friend,” Rosamunde pointed.

Across the courtyard, Jes exited the dining hall beside a boy roughly his height with a shock of muddy brown hair and a limp, and-

Elspeth ground to a halt and grabbed Rosamunde’s arm reflexively.

“What - what is it?” Rosamunde hissed.

Elspeth just stared. She’d always known she would see him today but she hadn’t truly been prepared for it.

It was _her Matthew_. Her darling Farseeker Ward! But he was little, all gangly and thin and much, much paler than she remembered. She’d forgotten he limped! How had he come to limp in the first place?

Jes and Matthew didn’t see them as they turned in the direction that led to the Greenthorn maze entry. They were talking, Matthew with his whole body, waving his hands about for emphasis.

Elspeth clamped her free hand over her mouth when a stray “nay bother” travelled their way.

She had to clamp down on every other response her mind and body threw at her, too. The delight, the endearment, the surprise, the desire to rush over and lock both boys in her arms. She settled on a grin when she realised Rosamunde was peering at her and she’d been staring and gripping Rosa’s arm for far too long.

“Jes’ guide doesn’t look as rude as ours, let’s see if he’ll show us around?” Elspeth hopped into a run.

“But what about food?” Rosamunde asked, a little whiney.

“It’s close to midday,” Elspeth spun on her heels, pointing to the clock tower. “I expect midmeal will be ready, soon.”

Elspeth caught Rosamunde’s sigh, but the girl followed her across the cobbled courtyard, clearly reluctant to be left on her own.

“Jes!” Elspeth called, raising a hand in greeting.

Both boys turned back.

“There you are,” the corner of Jes’ mouth rose, brow furrowing for a beat as he took in Elspeth’s abundant elation, smoothing only when he glanced to Rosamunde.

“Hullo, new faces,” Matthew rocked on his good foot, pointing to Elspeth as the girl skidded to a grinning halt by grabbing her brother’s arm and nearly bowling them all over. “I’d wager ye’re Elspeth, on account of the family resemblance, which means,” he tilted his head toward Rosa as the girl slowed to a more dignified stop, “ye’re the fair Rosamunde.”

“Hello,” Rosamunde flushed and crinkled her nose at Jes. “And you are?” she managed around a laugh.

“I’m Matthew,” he smiled, honest and open, and by Lud, Elspeth just wanted to ruffle his hair! 

Elspeth stuck her hand out swiftly to draw his attention back to her. “It’s great to meet you, Matthew. Can I call you Matt? Or Matty? You can call me Elf and I’ve started calling her Rosa lately because the alternative is _such_ a mouthful, and I really think it’ll stick.”

“Elspeth, slow down,” Jes begged, incredulous as he extracted his arm from his sister’s grip.

“She’s right though, I don’t mind Rosa,” Rosamunde shrugged.

Matthew laughed as he tilted his head. “Well aren’t ye a bundle of energy,” he gripped her wrist in Highland welcoming fashion, and peered over her shoulder. “Give yer guide the slip?”

Elspeth snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “The other way around actually.”

“He was really rude,” Rosamunde disclosed, “and then he just - ran off, calling us crazy.”

Jes’ moss-green gaze centred on Elspeth and his look flattened. “Now why would he have done that?” he drawled.

Elspeth widened her eyes at him in challenge but said nothing.

“How odd. Did ye catch his name?” Matthew rocked on his good foot again, and Elspeth frowned at his feet.

“Are you okay, Matthew, should we sit?”

“Elspeth said his name was Ariel?” Rosamunde supplied.

Matthew’s mouth was open in the act of replying to Elspeth, but it snapped shut as the boy’s attention whirled to the older girl. “Ye made _Ariel_ run off?”

“He chose to leave,” Elspeth crossed her arms. “He seemed afraid.”

Matthew spluttered. “What did ye do to him?”

“Nothing!”

“Elspeth,” Jes cut in sternly. “Why couldn’t you just make friends-“

“Oh, no no no,” Matthew interjected swiftly, his palm toward Jes and a fervent shake to his shaggy head. “It’s usually Ariel that does the scaring. What did ye do to make him run off?” Matthew turned back to Elspeth in part horror, part classic Matthew curiosity.

Elspeth smiled and loosened a farseeking probe, toying with just showing him. “I…talked to him. I tried to help him actually, he seemed very scared.”

Matthew snorted in disbelief, and over Matthew’s shoulder, Jes shook his head, his eyes widened with dread. _Don’t do it_ , he didn’t need to even send.

“Ariel, actually scared of sommat,” Matthew shook his head in disbelief. “Ye gotta give me more than that, the nasty little bugger’s been a nightmare for as long as anyone can remember.”

Elspeth shot her brother a deadpan look, and nodded once. _I do what I want._

Matthew hadn’t learnt to shield yet, so Elspeth could only sort of flop into his mind as obviously as she could to announce her arrival. “ _I just did this and he lost his nerve,_ ” Elspeth sent.

“Rosamunde,” Jes said swiftly, aware he had lost this battle. “How did you sleep?”

Elspeth let a smile slip at Matthew’s gape.

“ _Keep talking or Rosa might think something’s wrong,_ ” Elspeth mentally prompted.

“Right,” Matthew spoke, his words stilted. “Ye...he’ll prob’ly assign ye somewhere awful, but mebee it was worth it.”

“Absolutely,” Elspeth returned out loud and grinned. “ _Nice to find a fellow farseeker here,_ ” she commented in Matthew’s mind.

Matthew expressed the mental whooshing sound that translated somewhere between overwhelmed and mind-blown. “ _Are ye brother and Rosa mind-sensitive too? I thought it were just me and me mam, til I came up here._ ”

Elspeth sent a negative. “ _Jes is, Rosa is not. She doesn’t know. I’m not sure it’d be safe for her to know, yet._ ”

Matthew flashed Rosamunde a swift look; she was in conversation with Jes. “Yes, well mayhap ye’ll end up on the farms anyway. Busy time of year,” he said, loud and obvious.

“ _Why wouldnay it be safe for her to know? She’s yer friend._ ”

“Mm,” Elspeth mmed. “That’s fascinating,” she idled, uncaring if it made sense.

“ _Because we’ll have to keep hiding for a while. I don’t want Madame Vega to know anyone but I have abilities for now, or this might get more complicated than it needs to._ ”

“ _Elf, what? Ye just arrived._ ”

“ _I can teach you to shield so Vega can’t pick at your mind as she likes, if you want? Then we can talk - whenever it’s safe._ ”

Matthew’s eyes widened in interest. “ _Ye’d do that?_ ”

Elspeth nodded. “ _Of course,_ ” she slipped from his mind.

“How about that tour of the farms?”

Matthew shook his head regretfully. “None of us can make it through without Ariel or a keeper. The stuff the maze is made of makes a right muddle of yer mind.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Elspeth held her arm out for him to hold. “Here. That’s maybe the fifth time you’ve shuffled like that, your leg is clearly bothering you.”

Matthew sent a cautious glance Jes’ way before gingerly placing his hand along Elspeth’s elbow. “Thank ye,” he shook his head, bemused.

Elspeth tossed a glance over her shoulder. “We’re going, you coming?”

Rosamunde waved them on. “No, I need midmeal. We’ll wait here for that.”

“Be nice,” Jes held out a warning finger.

Elspeth sent her brother a too-sweet smile. “I’m always nice.”

Matthew chuckled as Elspeth turned them back to the path that led to the maze entrance. “This is amazin’. I cannay wait to introduce ye to Dameon.”

Elspeth’s eyes widened and she stared at the cobbles. “Is he...like us?”

“Sort of,” Matthew shrugged. “A bit of a different - way about him. But he’s the nicest lad ye’ll ever meet - yer gonna love him.”

“Okay,” Elspeth choked. “Sounds great.”

—

Elspeth let Matthew lead as far as the entrance to the Greenthorn maze, but took over their route from there. Sure, once things changed at Obernewtyn there would be easier paths to the farm, but for now she let herself remember the old way, which confused Matthew.

“Nah, trust me Elf, yer mind won’t work in here.”

Elspeth shrugged. While all of the misfits had eventually overcome the effects of the plant (weed) through prolonged exposure, she actually plain remembered the path as clearly as the lines on her palm, having trod it for several seasons.

Pleading a need to concentrate, Elspeth silently helped Matthew and tried _not_ to think about meeting Dameon.

It wasn’t fair to approach him with such restraint and regret. Lud, she had given Madame Vega, _who she had had to kill last time_ , and Ariel, who in plot regards was her _nemesis_ , consideration and understanding that they possibly didn’t deserve, in the interests of making life better for everybody. She had begun to sow the seeds of change. She was winning.

Perhaps it was that Dameon’s um, indiscretion, had been directed straight at her, and not at the world in general. Perhaps she felt betrayed, that he had felt that way about her for so long, yet hadn’t said anything when she thought they had been - well, best friends.

Facing Dameon and knowing he might harbour feelings for her for years to come made her stomach clench with worry.

She had to stop herself from falling into the habit Sentinel had defined during one of their sessions: the tendency to blame herself for other’s reactions to her. For a time, she had agonised over perhaps if she hadn’t been so reliant on him, so open with him, so friendly with him, things might have gone differently. Better. 

But, Dameon had kissed her, Dameon had pushed his feelings onto her so she would kiss him back whether she wanted to or not. It was not her fault. She was validated in calling it a betrayal of everything they had built before that moment. She was validated in believing his ‘sorry, not sorry’ as they travelled toward Redland Bay made it worse.

She stilled, eyes wide with clarity.

“What’s wrong?” Matthew asked.

Elspeth shook her head, mumbling something about the brain fog of the Greenthorn being thicker here, and pressed on around the brambles.

Dameon had done to her what Ariel had tried to do to her this morning: take his feelings and make another feel them as their own.

Of course in this timeline he hadn’t done it yet. He hadn’t even met her. The chances of _that_ mistake being made again were very slim.

But it didn’t mean that he, or any Empath, didn’t have the capacity to make such monumental errors in judgement. Empathy had always been more invasive, more dangerous than coercing. To some extent, Obernewtyn had always known this, but the Empath Guild was full of such kind, sweet folk who, because of their talent, nobody thought would be ethically capable of such a violation.

Pushing Empathy onto another was often used as a self-defence measure, like during the rebellion, or when little Dragon used hers to scare people from the West Coast ruins out of fear of discovery. Pushing Empathy into a crowd in the interests of promoting change and acceptance, like the Magi and Empath musicians had done, seemed acceptable.

Pushing Empathy onto another to manipulate them into making a choice they would not have otherwise made was not okay.

“Wow,” Matthew laughed as Elspeth directed them around a bend, bringing the gate to the farm into view. “Ye actually did it.”

“I told you,” she smirked, shaking off the air of discomfort as the fug of the Greenthorn thinned.

It was time to live in the moment, not fall back on her second-favourite hobby; circuitous introspection.

Matthew shook his head in wonder. “I’ve heard of…people like us who can see snatches of the future. Mebee ye have a bit o’ that?”

“Mebee,” Elspeth wrinkled her nose at him. “Not everything we do needs to link back to an extended ability, you know.”

It was Matthew’s turn to scoff. “Ye’re telling me that guidin’ us through a maze ye’ve never seen before in yer life was sheer dumb luck?”

“It just seemed the obvious way to go,” Elspeth shrugged through a dismissive laugh. “Plus,” she pointed down, “ferrying groups of people through a maze every day takes its toll on the grass.”

Matthew turned his eyes down, and the innocent brown widened again. “Why’d I nivver think of that?” he blurted.

“Think of what?” a third voice joined them, musical and sweet.

Elspeth had been getting used to re-meeting people that in her original timeline, had met strange and horrible fates. Re-meeting Matthew only minutes ago had already dragged her emotions to new heights - so she was able to school her expression as she turned to look upon Cameo in all her delicate loveliness.

In her mind, she fell onto a mental couch and sobbed her heart out, vowing that this time, she would protect her.

“Cameo,” Matthew’s smile in seeing the girl was so open that Elspeth’s mental weeping intensified. “Hi - it’s good to - what are-?” his brows furrowed and his grip on Elspeth intensified. “Did ye come lookin’ fer me?”

Cameo laughed softly and rest an arm on his shoulder, some joke passing between them that Elspeth wasn’t privy to. “Where have you been?” she asked with a curious glance in Elspeth’s direction.

“Oh aye!” Matthew shook himself and motioned. “This is Elspeth. Elf, I mean.”

“Elf,” Cameo repeated quietly, smile open and welcoming. “What a sweet name.”

Elspeth cleared her throat and gently extracted Matthew’s hold, to offer Cameo his hand. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” she smiled back. “Matthew was showing my brother the dining hall. Sorry to keep him from you for so long.”

Matthew’s eyes widened in panic.

“Oh - I didn’t mean to suggest -“ Cameo managed a tiny, embarrassed smile through her flush, “we have been assigned to the farms for so long that many of us noticed your absence.”

“ _Please stop speaking,_ ” Matthew farsaught Elspeth urgently.

Whoops. “My brother and friend and I arrived yesterday,” she blinked, feigning casualness to fill the silence. Would Matthew and Cameo have a chance to be - whatever they would have been? It might…simplify those years of awkward misunderstanding and heartbreak with Dragon. Come to think of it, Dragon would adore Cameo, too. Everyone would. Which guild would Cameo belong to? What talent did she have again? Futuretelling?

Cameo’s small smile returned, though her cheeks remained pinked. “Were you declared a misfit like the rest of us?” she whispered with a cautious glance behind her. Nobody was there.

Elspeth shook her head. “Actually, I convinced Madame Vega to adopt us.”

Matthew and Cameo’s twin look of horror cut Elspeth to the core.

“But I’m not an informant!” she added hastily. “Ye Gods. Please,” she held out her hands, imploring. “I’m here to help. The adoption was…a bargain,” she winced, realising how bad even that sounded. “I agreed to help them so they wouldn’t-“

No. She closed her eyes and reconsidered again. There was no easy way to tell them why she had acted the way she had; of what might still happen if she didn’t manage to consume Vega and Alexi’s full attentions, and soon.

After a slow, steadying breath, Elspeth opened her eyes and fixed Cameo with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s been a strange few days, and I’ve had no food for about eighteen hours,” she appealed to the girl’s kindly nature. “I do understand if you’re suspicious of me now,” Elspeth added hastily. “I know I would be.”

The resultant smile was sympathetic. “Nobody woke you for firstmeal?”

Matthew managed a small laugh. “Well, apparently Ariel tried, but Cam - it’s incredible. Elspeth says he ran away from her,” he hushed.

Cameo’s brows knit together above her crystalline-blue eyes. “But…why would you try to scare him?” she swallowed. “He’s been through so much.”

“I know, I didn’t mean to. I tried to help him but he was so afraid…” Elspeth drifted off, eyes tracking movement from the far end of the field. A cluster of workers were approaching the water tanks, where midmeal was usually served from. “Perhaps we should talk another time.”

She caught the twins, Astrid and Frida, in the lead, their blonde hair so white that it glowed in the midday sun. Willie scooted around the outside of the group, falling over feet that seemed too big for him in his haste.

Her gaze was inevitably drawn to the mop of sandy-red hair that peeked above the other youths. Dameon had always been tallest in their group, in part because he didn’t tend to hunch like the rest of them did in the early days. He always carried himself with a certain dignity, no matter his circumstances.

She sighed, pursing her lips at the conflict she felt, and Cameo followed her gaze.

“You don’t need to worry about talking around them,” she tried to sound encouraging. “They’re our friends.”

“Cam,” Matthew sighed gently. “Elf, I should warn ye now, our Cameo sees the best in everybody, all the time.”

“What a lovely trait to have in such tumultuous circumstances,” Elspeth acknowledged warmly.

“I dinnay mean-“

“Should we join them?” she offered to put Matthew out of his stuttering misery.

Cameo just nodded, eyes thoughtful.

“How’s your leg?” Elspeth turned to Matthew, re-offering her elbow.

Glancing hastily toward the crowd of assembling farm workers, Matthew shook his head. “Not a great idea. Thank ye, though.”

He started limping toward the group, and Elspeth shot Cameo a small, furrowed frown. The girls fell into step either side of him.

“There is no shame in asking for help, you know,” Elspeth whispered, abstaining from farseeking out of respect for Cameo. It wouldn’t be fair to cut her out of conversation when she was right there.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Elf, ye ken it’s not like that.“

Cameo smiled sadly, but said nothing.

Elspeth had to sternly tell herself to respect the boy’s wishes. He knew his limits. “Sorry.”

They said nothing more as they came upon the group - who had largely scattered, having collected their lunches. Matthew grabbed three parcels and passed one each to the girls, before motioning that they follow.

Elspeth stared at the squishy package in her hand. The others drifted to the place they had always taken lunch - by the drystone wall separating the apple and plum orchards. The former was awash with white and pink blooms and the latter brimmed with plump purple fruit, ready for harvesting.

She told herself to be normal as she spied Dameon sitting by himself, his back straight against the wall and legs crossed before him. His eyes were unseeingly fixed on a point beyond them, his hands busy as they gently prodded at the lunch parcel in his grasp. He was so…young. It was true of everybody she had re-met, but seeing Dameon sitting quietly by himself trying to negotiate his lunch wrappings tugged at Elspeth’s heartstrings.

A lump swelled in her throat, this time borne of shame. It wasn’t her fault he had done something bad in her future, but she couldn’t blame him today for something he might never do, hopefully never have the capacity to do. And in the depths of her heart, Elspeth knew they had been friends, dear friends, before the kiss had brought the friendship that had formed them into doubt.

It was Cameo who spoke first when they reached the slightly older boy. “Can I help you with that?” she knelt by his side and rest a gentle hand on his arm.

Dameon smiled his soft, patient smile. “The people who prepare our lunches seem to use a different wrapping technique every day,” he offered lightly.

“Ye’re assuming there’s a method to Andra’s madness?” Matthew lumped himself down beside Dameon, his back to the wall.

Cameo smiled between them and unwrapped half of Dameon’s sandwich, saying nothing as she passed it back.

“Thank you,” Dameon replied quietly, his unseeing eyes staring at that point beyond Elspeth again. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Elspeth took a breath to steady her shield, knowing that it was impossible to stop all of her emotions from leaking through. She hoped all he would feel was mild hesitance, easily chalked up to the common shyness that came with meeting new people.

“Hi,” she knelt in the soft summer grass and mustered a smile. Even though he couldn’t see it; he could feel smiles. He had told her that once; smiles were always warm, like a midsummer sun. “You must be Dameon.”

The boy’s brows hinted at confusion, though his smile endured. “I see my reputation precedes me,” he murmured in good humour.

“I didn’t mean-” Elspeth internally winced - there was simply no way to conceal the vegetable flurry of emotions surrounding a boy she had supposedly just met. She had to get a hold of herself. “Sorry. I’m Elspeth. Elf, if you like.”

She had to suppress a wince at her clumsy words.

Dameon offered his hand. “Welcome to the farms, Elspeth.”

Even the way he said her name was gentle. _How_ had things gone so monumentally wrong? How had they gone from _this_ gentle innocence to end with Dameon forcing his passion onto her?

Elspeth gripped his wrist in greeting, but couldn’t say any more. He would figure out _everything_ if she didn’t get control of the frantic fluttering inside her chest cavity.

“Ye stop that,” Matthew snorted and whapped Dameon on the shoulder, none the wiser to Elspeth’s internal emotional warfare. “Don’t mind Dameon gawking at ye. He doesnay mean anything by it.”

Elspeth crossed her brows at the boy, but Dameon laughed softly as he collected his half-open lunch from his lap.

“Apologies, Elspeth. Our Matthew is yet to embrace the subtle art of tact.”

“Which is surprising, really,” Elspeth let that understanding pass between them.

“Yeah, well we can’t _all_ be Councilmen’s sons brought up in fine houses with private etiquette tutors, can we?”

Elspeth took the opportunity to direct attention away from her feelings. “You’re a Councilman’s son?” she looked at him properly. “How did you end up here?”

Dameon was hesitant, but Matthew launched into the epic story of Dameon’s cousin’s betrayal, which led him to Cameo’s and then his own origins, too. Despite his bluntness, Elspeth could see the makings of a natural diplomat in him. No wonder he had excelled, become a leader in his own right in Redland Bay under such terrible conditions.

The awkwardness settled as they talked and picked at their (truly horrible) tomato and spinach sandwiches.

 _This is fine_ , Elspeth told herself. _I can be normal around him._

The bell to signal the end of break sounded after what seemed like only fifteen minutes.

Dameon and Cameo rose at once.

“See you at lastmeal,” Cameo offered a small wave.

“Definitely,” Matthew groaned, standing to prop himself against the wall.

“Dameon, can I help you back to the bottling shed?”

“Thank you,” he accepted Cameo’s arm with a grateful smile. “It was nice to meet you, Elspeth.”

“You too,” Elspeth had to swallow an inexplicable urge to cry, busying herself by dusting the breadcrumbs from her trousers. Cry later.

Matthew limped to stand beside her, eyeing Elspeth with a small, thoughtful frown. “Suppose we’d better get on with that tour,” he murmured.

Elspeth nodded swiftly, turning to fix him with a hopeful smile and tears in her eyes. “Please.”

“Right,” he moved a single step away, then turned back, his brows crossed. “I should’ve warned ye about his blindness. Sorry. I dinnay really think about it any more.”

“What?” Elspeth winced.

“I’ve talked to him about the staring,” he continued ruefully. “He dinney realise he does it-“

“Matthew, stop - please,” Elspeth implored quietly. “I don’t care if Dameon is blind. You were right, he’s really nice.”

The furrow in his brow grew a little deeper. “Then…what’s wrong?”

Elspeth held out her elbow. “Sorry. I was concerned about his…talents, reading something I didn’t want to share,” she managed, not wanting to lie to her friend.

Matthew’s eyes bulged as he idly took Elspeth’s offer and placed his hand on her arm. “Ye cannay be serious. Dameon’s as honest as they come, he’d nivver-”

“I know,” Elspeth had to cut him off, though did it quietly as they passed the water tank. “I’m sorry. I’ll…do better, next time. Can we just get on with the tour?”

Matthew considered, then frowned and shrugged. “Sure. So,” he waved his free hand before him. “Ye’ve yer standard sort of bottling sheds, where Dameon and I and some of the bairns are stationed for the summer harvest. Beyond that, ye’ve the grain silos, and obviously, back behind us are the orchards. If ye’re assigned to the farms, ye’ll be put there, with Cam.”

“Where are the animals kept?” Elspeth asked curiously, despite knowing all routes to the stables.

“Oh - they’re beyond the vege patches,” Matthew motioned vaguely. “If ye’re a fan of horses, like most girls are,” he murmured, “we should go see Larkin. He may have a job fer ye, if ye get on his good side.”

Elspeth nodded eagerly and said yes please. Though she knew she would probably be summoned to see Alexi before she could get into the swing of the farms, she was ready for any opportunity to smooth things over with Avra, and start getting the beasts in order under everybody’s noses.

“Though,” Matthew turned toward the path between silos that would lead to the animal enclosures. “Larkin’s more grumpy side than good these days, nivver really wants to talk anymore. But no harm in trying?” her shot her a crooked smile.

Elspeth’s chest clenched at that smile, dear and idealistic and reaching the young man’s eyes. “There certainly isn’t,” she acknowledged softly.

Distracted by fierce, misty thoughts of protecting her little surrogate family (as well as what was left of her biological family), Elspeth failed to remember who they would inevitably run into if they went to see the animals and Louis Larkin.

Matthew showed her the chicken coops, which were largely empty of chickens (for even under misguided rule, everybody understood the benefit of free-range chickens, even if they didn’t believe in free-range children), and after that they ventured into the first of the large barns, split into fenced stables housing the larger animals.

“There’s the pigs, down in numbers this season - was a bit of a tough winter. Though they’re saying that’ll be rectified in a matter of days.”

Elspeth nodded, only half listening, wondering why the mention of pigs sent off a warning bell in her mind. She let herself take in their orderly sties and water troughs. She really just wanted to get to the horses and-

Her eyes widened as they settled on an inflated sow, lying on her side and grunting with discomfort, her face half-buried in straw and her breaths long and laboured and…oh, yes, that was a tiny, slimy snout poking out of the other end of her. “Is she…giving birth?!” Elspeth pointed.

Matthew blanched. “Uh. Yeah. Looks like it,” he wheezed.

Elspeth turned to him, incredulous. “Shouldn’t we help her?”

“I dinney ken what to do!” Matthew defended urgently. His paleness turned ashen-green. “Do ye?”

Elspeth pursed her lips - she didn’t, really. “Well we can’t just stand here!” with a tsk of annoyance, Elspeth opened the sow’s gate - a pig giving birth was unlikely to flee - and hurried inside, kneeling in the mud and straw as she drew it back from the new mother’s head.

“ _It’s okay,_ ” she sent to the pig, aiming for calmness she didn’t feel. “ _I’m here to help. You’re nearly there,_ ” she glanced across and swallowed at the sight of the first baby pig, free and stumbling to his hooves, and another slimy snout already on its way to gasping its first breath of air.

The sow’s eyes rolled toward the misfit girl. “ _The pain. Make it stop,_ ” she begged weakly.

“ _I don’t know how to,_ ” Elspeth told her honestly, brushing her hand along the sow’s face. “ _How many are you expecting?_ ” she attempted to distract her. 

“ _Too many,_ ” the pig wheezed.

In the corner of her eye, the second piglet pushed free.

“ _That’s two,_ ” Elspeth told her. “ _They’re both up and walking and - and perfect._ ”

Behind her she heard a thump, and glanced urgently to see a grey-faced Matthew steady himself against the wooden rail.

“Get in here and help her babies at least,” Elspeth hissed.

Matthew nodded and crawled into the sty on his hands and knees, making for the first little pig. “How?” he gurgled.

“They need to suckle,” Elspeth supposed. “Get them onto the teats.”

“Teats,” Matthew repeated dryly, scooping up the first of the piglets. It squealed in protest, until Matthew shoved its nose onto its mother’s engorged mammaries.

They fell into a rhythm; Elspeth soothed the mother pig as she pushed out tiny piglet after piglet, and Matthew scrambled around trying to catch the ‘slippery little blighters’ and push them in the right direction.

With time and persistence, and the inability to do anything else, really, the mother pig managed to fall into a pattern where a new piglet came every three minutes or so, and Elspeth left her post of encouragement to help Matthew catch the surprisingly fast baby pigs.

“We’re out of teats,” Matthew told her with foreboding suddenness. His face had returned to its normal colour about four pigs ago.

Elspeth spun to check the sow for herself, clinging tightly to the hungry piglet in her arms as it uttered a formless squeal of desperation to fight its siblings for access to milk. “What do we do now?” she gasped.

“What in Lud’s name are you two doing?”

Elspeth clutched the piglet to her chest and spun on her knees to gape.

The nineteen-year-old Rushton naturally took her reaction for guilt. He stood at the sow’s fence, arms slung over the side, his broody eyebrows at their broodiest and his hair - shorter than she ever remembered it being. 

“Rushton,” Matthew’s relief was marred by mild panic. “We dinney ken what else to do - I was showing Elspeth the farms and she just - started giving birth, right in front of us-!” he babbled.

Elspeth put down the piglet so it could scramble to its mother on its own. “She is still giving birth,” she told him stoically.

“I can see that,” Rushton pushed through the gate, mussing his hair idly with large, frustrated fingers. “I thought she looked too big to be carrying six. It’s a good thing you were here.”

Matthew looked both surprised and proud at the admission but Elspeth had to look away and bite her tongue - she had forgotten about his hair-mussing habit, and how a younger she had vehemently denied she had occasionally annoyed him just to see him tousle it. Before everything that had happened to them - before Manotaur Island, and Redland Bay, and Eden…for a brief time, she had even enjoyed being his chief tousler.

And then she hadn’t.

Elspeth sobered as the memories brushed over her, even as she brushed the sow’s head with more gentle motions.

Once they had arrived at Eden, they had needed space and time to heal, and once that passed…they…

Elspeth couldn’t put her finger on what had eventuated between them, because there had been so little…actual conversation to form the basis of their entire relationship. Once they were finally alone…it became very obvious that they simply didn’t know how to talk to one another.

He had been her first love during a crazy, scary, desperate time of life; he would always own a piece of her heart. She respected him, respected what he had been through, certainly. But…by the time Elspeth’s emotional block had been removed and she’d started to forgive herself for - everything, started to really understand her own mind, she found she no longer needed, or really wanted, a romantic relationship. Not straight away, at least.

She could have really used a friend, a human friend who understood human emotions. Rushton had clearly felt both rejected and trapped with her, for he couldn’t talk to any of the other inhabitants of the forever she had unwittingly dragged him to, and then asked him for space and time to understand who she was. His aloofness had been unbearable, and as the years lengthened…

It had been very easy to avoid Rushton from the spacious Eden facilities, particularly when he had found distraction in the seemingly endless supply of old-time shows and films the servers had, for whatever reason, decided were worth storing for eternity.

She busied herself by the head of the sow, leaning close to whisper soothing placations to her.

“ _Do you know how many more?_ ” she asked privately.

The sow grunted and another new life struggled to its feet by way of response; she was too tired to form words.

Gratefully the birthing of what seemed to be a double litter eased the tension Elspeth had been worried the first meeting with Rushton would be full of. By the time the sow finished giving birth and the piglets had established a system of pushes and hoofy shoves that gave them all a little milk, Matthew had recovered his usual timbre, regaling the farm overseer with the details of all that had occurred before he arrived.

Elspeth sent her congratulations to the new mother and turned to face them wearing an uncertain, bracing smile. “Will she be able to sustain them all?” she asked.

Matthew turned to Rushton for response.

The overseer tilted his head. “She gets enough food, they’ll pull through. We might have to separate the stronger from weaker ones occasionally, to make sure they get enough milk,” he mused.

Elspeth nodded, quietened by this young Rushton, so sure and confident with his place in the world. She had…yes, she had missed him, missed the time of their lives when he had been this certain, solid presence.

She’d help this Rushton get his house back.

After a beat of silence punctuated by the indignant tiny squeals as the newborns squabbled and squawked for prime position, Rushton’s green gaze turned to the young farseekers. “Don’t you have a job to get back to?”

Elspeth shrugged and reached for Matthew’s arm. “Something like that.”

“She’s new,” Matthew explained as Elspeth helped him limp from the sty.

Rushton frowned, crossing his arms. “Your leg giving you trouble today?”

“It’s nothing,” Matthew covered gingerly, sliding Elspeth’s supporting arm away with a tangible wince. “C’mon Elspeth, you love horses, right? I’ll show you the stables.”

Elspeth glanced to Rushton and lifted both eyebrows. He shot her a straight-lipped look in return.

“Don’t you need someone to supervise the piglets?” Elspeth suggested lightly.

“My thoughts exactly,” Rushton murmured. “Peterson, make sure the smallest get their fair share of feeding time.”

“How?” Matthew spluttered.

 _Peterson_ , Elspeth inwardly choked. How had she never come to know Matthew’s surname? She hadn’t even realised he’d _had_ a surname.

“It’s simple,” Rushton knelt in the mud to demonstrate. “When these ones have had a feed,” he popped one off the nipple, “do this,” grabbing a struggling piglet in his other hand, he put it in place.

Matthew looked torn between obeying the order and escaping the birthing sty. “What about her tour?”

“Never mind,” Elspeth supplied hurriedly with a wave. “I’ll find my way-“

“I’ll find her a job,” Rushton stood, briefly attempting to push the mud from his work clothes, before conceding defeat with a grimace.

Elspeth made herself smile. “Why…thank you. Rushton, was it?” she swallowed.

“Aye, Rushton,” the farseeker answered for the young man, his stricken gaze glued to the fifteen pigs. “Rushton, this is Elspeth Gordie.”

“Oh,” Rushton’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re one of those new…Kinraide imports Madame Vega…adopted.”

“That’s right,” Elspeth smiled, unperturbed by his accusing gaze. She’d stopped being ruffled by Rushton’s Brooding LooksTM a long time ago.

“ _Elf,_ ” Matthew sent privately. “ _Keep yer wits about ye and yer mouth shut around this one, he’s an overseer._ ”

“ _Understood,_ ” Elspeth replied. “ _I can handle this._ ”

“ _I’m sure ye can but - just be careful._ ”

“ _I will._ ”

“ _Promise me._ ”

“ _Okay, I promise._ ” 

The hurried conversation was over in a heartbeat, and Elspeth helped Matthew ease back down into the straw, taking her time to ensure the boy was comfortable before she rose. A pang of worry questioned if he’d been overtaxing his leg for too long. She’d have to make contact with Roland, soon, and convince him to see to the boy’s leg.

She knew Roland, Gevan, Domick, Maryon, Miryum, Alad, even Garth, had all been helping both Selmar and Rushton, but as the other future Guildleaders were more Rushton’s age than her immediate circle’s, they’d never properly crossed paths until the initial struggle was over.

Rushton picked up a bucket of scraps and tossed them into the sow’s feed tray, then tucked the empty bucket under an arm. “You coming, Gordie?”

Elspeth stopped the arch to her eyebrow just in time, giving him a flat stare instead. _Gordie_? “I’ll see you at lastmeal,” she murmured to Matthew, and left to join the Surly Overseer.

Rushton barged off, hanging the empty bucket on a hook by the open barn doors. “Did they keep pigs at Kinraide?”

Elspeth shook her head, drawing to a stop beside him. “No,” she emphasised, clearing her throat. “They kept children.”

Rushton shot her another brooding look. “You’d better watch that smart mouth around the other keepers, Gordie,” he suggested quietly. “They’re not all as forgiving as I am.”

“I’ll be careful,” Elspeth murmured, repressing a snark but bristling at the unnecessary gruffness. It was so, _so_ easy to fall back into old habits with him.

“Right,” Rushton rolled his eyes and marched toward the next warehouse. “Horses are here,” he pointed. “Cows are there. Tour’s over. Get a bucket from the bottling shed and join the others in the plum orchard.”

 _Be better_ , she encouraged. It was a silent plea to both of them, and she flushed when Rushton turned back to settle his narrowed eyes on her, willing, _daring_ her to speak out again.

“I’m sorry,” she told him truthfully, the weight of a thousand sorry’s carrying across the space between them. Rushton’s scowl turned into a bemused frown.

“I…” she rubbed the back of her neck, uncertain how to explain. Talking to Rushton had always been difficult, so she settled on what she had been telling everyone else. “I’m here to help, I swear.”

“Then you’ll help in the orchard,” Rushton uncrossed his arms to point in the general direction.

Elspeth shot him a pleading look. “Come on. It doesn’t have to be like this-“

“Like what?” Rushton faltered.

“I know what you’re trying to achieve, and I really respect that,” Elspeth held her hands out. “So I’ll say it again,” she hesitated, not missing his cautious step back.

There was really only one way to convince him, and it’d save _lots_ of time. Loosening a probe, she knocked against his mind and spoke there, before he could realise what she was doing. “ _I am here to help you reclaim your birthright, Rushton Seraphim._ ”

She had never seen Rushton fall over his feet before, but the young man actually fell backwards from surprise, and while Elspeth tried to catch his arm, he crashed against the wall of the barn with a solid thud.

When Rushton managed to steady himself he looked at her with a hope she hadn’t seen in him for a very long time. It didn’t exactly hurt to see the widened realisation in his eyes, but it did sting a little. He had his whole life ahead of him, and he would lead them all to greatness. She would not take that, or his hope, or his future from him, this time.

With a swift glance around them, he leaned forward and confirmed in a whisper. “You’re like Selmar?”

Elspeth nodded slowly - she hadn’t set eyes on the girl yet, but she was determined to save her. “I’m like Selmar. But there’s more,” Elspeth continued in a lowered tone, not wishing to scare him into crashing into another wall, or be overheard. “I’m like Gevan, and Miryum, and Alad, and Ceirwan-“

“Who’s Ceirwan?”

“Never mind,” Elspeth put finding out who was here and who wasn’t on her mental to-do list, fixing him with a mossy look of sincerity. “I’m here to help,” she said a third time. “If you’ll let me.”

Rushton stood to his full height. Elspeth thought he didn’t seem entirely convinced he could trust her, and she couldn’t blame him, given how she was on Madame Vega’s…well, at best, good side, at worst, tolerating-side.

“We will see. Now,” his voice rose, gaining an authoritative tone. “Horses are this way,” he motioned she follow. “How are you at mucking out stables?”

Elspeth smiled her relief. “I think I can handle that.”


	7. Some Assembly Required

Louis Larkin wasn’t in the stables, but Elspeth was pleased to find another familiar face lingering amongst the horses, already clearing the muck - Alad.

After some instructions to the young man, whom Rushton referred to as “Hughes” (why had she never known any of their surnames?!), Rushton left her under his supervision.

As soon as Rushton was gone, Elspeth greeted the horses, which Alad, being a beastspeaker, couldn’t help but overhear.

He was so startled that he stopped working and had a long sit on a bale of hay.

Elspeth fetched him a cup of water so he’d have something to do with his hands other than fidget, and took up the pitchfork he had dropped to commence what was now her job. The young man - not much older than Rushton, really - watched Elspeth with widened eyes of grey, his usually tawny skin a shade or two paler than normal.

She left him with his drink and created a mental circle of trust for the beasts to join her in. Avra and Mira were the first the join, and the other horses followed suit, apart from one.

Elspeth frowned as she approached the stable holding the large, magnificent black stallion. “Gahltha?”

The horse utterly refused to make contact with her, pawing indignantly at the straw and puffing steam from his nostrils.

“ _He will not trust you,_ ” Alad mentally sent to Elspeth, having tentatively joined the circle. “ _He was - abused-_ “

“ _I understand. Give him time,_ ” Elspeth insisted, remembering how hostile he had been until their journey back from the Agyllian’s eyrie in a few year’s time. He had changed so much then, and Elspeth felt a spike of uncertainty about rushing through the old course of events, if it might change their bond.

But Elspeth didn’t have two years and a near-death experience to spend gaining his trust, so she opened a private channel and pushed the entire truth toward him in a mental mind-dump of memories, wrapped with an enticing silvery thread carrying the impression of, “ _for when you are ready_.”

The horse refused to acknowledge her questing, laden probe.

With a sigh, Elspeth left the memories in his forefront for him to unpack and flip through as he liked. She focussed on the job at hand, turning the hay as she closed the circle of communication.

“ _Thank you for speaking to Innle thisday,_ ” Elspeth commenced respectfully.

Alad’s curiosity was evident. “ _What’s Innle?_ ”

Elspeth sent him a private, “ _Later,_ ” and returned her focus to the beast circle.

“ _As Avra and Mira have related, I come with directions to the freerunning barad, and also the information that it may not always be as…permanently free of funaga as the legends had you believe._ ”

The horses made sounds of discontent; a few muttered resigned murmurs that of course, it had been too good to be true.

Alad’s curious probe was back, vaguely aghast. “ _Who are you?_ ”

“ _I promise you, later,_ ” she repeated, focus returned to the group. “ _I bring the truth to you now, because I also, for too long, was unaware,_ ” she told the circle. “ _But the freerunning barud is, at this time, free of funaga. To reach it,_ ” Elspeth pressed, twisting a clod of manure and tossing it into the building pile, “ _will take time and endurance, for the first who make the journey._ ”

Drawing on her past, for beasts had a more fluid, wobbly concept of time anyway, she spoke of the need for a flyer owing to the great expanse of toxic Blacklands, ocean and deserts between here and the Eden facility. She told them of how the Beast Guild would work with beastspeaking humans such as Alad to free animals all over the Land, regardless of species, from the slaughterhouses, poor conditions, and slavery. And she told them that many beasts might decide, even after knowing the location of the freerunning, to remain at Obernewtyn to continue this work, and that they would be compensated for their services.

“ _The goal is, as ever, freedom and equal rights,_ ” Elspeth summarised. “ _But as with my people, equality is a long road we must walk. I believe it is easier to walk it together, but the world will fear us for years to come, so I understand your desire for a refuge over high-risk indentureship. Innle is merely here to present the facts and the means; I will not presume to make your choices for you._ ”

Her speech stirred something deep and bright within her, so Elspeth was a little put out when Avra calmly replied that she would assemble a Beast council to discuss it in private.

Elspeth acknowledged and advised the eventual Beast leader what she had told Rushton; that she was here to help, if they would let her, as would all of Obernewtyn, once Rushton was Master.

Collecting the utterly bemused Alad’s probe on her way out, Elspeth left the horses to their circle, and resumed mucking out their stables, pointedly not listening in on their continued discussion.

“What in Lud’s name just happened?” Alad hissed.

Elspeth smiled sadly and decided to farseek him instead, just in case anyone wandered by. “ _I told them the truth of a beast legend I’m somewhat involved with,_ ” she sent.

“ _Beast legend? Is that what Innle is?_ ”

“ _Yes. Ironically for the beasts, their ‘saviour’ is a human,_ ” Elspeth mused with inkling regret. “ _I don’t like delivering news that might crush their hope. But truth is more important, for one can act appropriately once they hold all the facts._ ” 

“ _There was nothing crushing about what you said to them,_ ” Alad sent quietly. “ _Your words were inspiring._ ”

“ _Thank you,_ ” Elspeth gave him another smile, tinged with sadness. It was a relief, to not hide aspects of her Quest from the people she trusted (even if they didn’t know, or trust her, yet - but being truthful was ever the path to earning trust).

Alad shook his head, as though trying to clear water from his ear. “ _It’s never this easy with Gevan and Domick and Miryum. How are we doing this?_ ”

Elspeth expressed the mental equivalent of a snort; tiny bubbles fizzed between them. Alad did the head shaking thing again, this time uttering a small, bemused laugh.

“ _Gevan, Miryum and Domick are coercers,_ ” she emphasised. “ _I mean. I am as well, but that’s not the point._ ”

“ _Sorry, I don’t get it,_ ” he cautioned.

Elspeth tilted her head, trying to consolidate the difference for herself. At this time, they hadn’t properly classified what they could do. She’d never thought much about it beyond ‘they’re a coercer’ and ‘that’s just the way it is’.

“ _This isn’t a coercion probe that we’re talking through. Farseeking probes are constructed to facilitate communication, not impose will on another. Coercers without farseeking sub-abilities find it exhausting to speak mind to mind, as they have to expend energy to both suppress the probe’s function and modify its purpose._ ”

“ _I think I understood about half of those words._ ”

The glow in Elspeth’s chest swelled at his mirth and she flashed a smile, reverting to regular speech. “Okay, these stables are done. What’s next, Hughes?”

He laughed. “You can call me Alad.”

“And you can call me Elspeth or Elf, as you like,” she belatedly extended her arm.

Alas mirrored her motion and they gripped wrists. “Elf,” he considered. “That’s really cute, it suits you.”

Elspeth snorted for real this time. “I’ve never been called _cute_ in my entire life.”

Alad laughed to the hay, settling back against the barn wall. His smile persisted as he shook his head in bemusement. “So, Rushton trusts you.”

Elspeth joined Alad by the wall, propping the pitchfork before them. “That remains to be seen. Will you put in a good word for me the next time your secret society meets in the dead of night?” she elbowed him in the ribs.

Alad swatted off her attack. “I take back the cute comment - you’re a bit of a brat.”

“Yeah, I really am,” Elspeth sighed to the barn floor. “And stubborn too.”

“And probably an informant for Madame Vega,” Alad added reasonably.

“Probably,” Elspeth shrugged. “Yours would be stupid to trust me, in that light. Say,” she pushed herself off the wall, remembering her promise. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the wolves Ariel locked up are, would you?”

Alad’s eyes widened but Elspeth pressed on.

“It’s just that I think we might be able to help them, with the right combination of healing and empathy, which will save…well, _lives_. Is Roland with you yet?” Elspeth asked, her tone curious.

Alad stared at her for a beat, then shook his head swiftly. “That was a lot of questions.”

“You can put curiosity on my list of suspicious traits, if it helps.”

“How do you know about Roland?”

Elspeth offered a shrug. “I know people.”

“You just got here,” he crossed his brows. “Did you read everyone’s minds while we slept?”

Elspeth gaped. “How could you think I would do such a thing!?”

“That’s just it, I don’t know you at all,” Alad tossed a wary glance at the stable doors at the end of the building.

Crestfallen, Elspeth couldn’t decide if he was checking nobody was approaching, or planning his escape route.

“Look,” he winced. “After what I heard you say to them,” he nodded toward Avra, “I want to trust you. But - you need to tell me how you know so much. I don’t like the idea of someone just…taking information from my mind.”

“Nobody does, I’m not-” Elspeth closed her eyes, biting her lip. She’d been careless, but thus far it had only caused bemusement and largely positive results in her wake. But now she knew heavily guarded secrets. Of course Alad thought she had read it from someone’s, if not his, mind.

“Then…just tell me how you know all of this,” he encouraged mildly.

She nodded, glancing back up to him. She had resolved to not lie to her friends, so settled on the only possible truth she could tell him.

“I have seen the future.”

Alad cocked his head for a beat before bright understanding flit across his features. He palmed his forehead with a dull slap. “You’re like Maryon.”

Elspeth suppressed the bubble of incredulous laughter. No, no she was not. “I have...a few abilities, yes,” she allowed.

Alad peered at her, the palm still stuck to his forehead. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Elspeth felt awkward and searched for a change of subject, because from a technical viewpoint, Empathy was the only ability she didn’t innately have (though currently, she wasn’t convinced her body would heal itself automatically). “We’ve been in here a while, should we get onto the next job?”

Alad pushed himself off the barn wall with a sigh. “Yeah. We need to take them out to be re-shod. Except grumpy there.”

“His name’s Gahltha,” Elspeth supplied.

Alad frowned. “He speaks to you?”

Elspeth shook her head. “Not yet. But I’ve...seen him. He’s important.”

“You don’t have to worry about me giving up on him or anything,” Alad nodded with an overwhelmed huff. “And...yes,” he held a palm out. “To what you asked before. I know where Ariel keeps the wolves.”

Elspeth’s eyes brightened; it had not felt...good, even briefly, to entertain a notion that he distrusted her. “Can you take me to them?”

Alad offered a sad smile. “Their...minds are gone, Elf. I’m sorry.”

“No, but they’re not,” Elspeth assured. “Ariel pushed his own fear onto them until it sent them crazy, but I don’t believe it’s irreparable. Their madness is caused by a confusion of self. Let’s get Roland and go. I’ll show you,” she walked toward the doors.

“And say what, exactly, when we’re stopped by the keepers between us and them?” Alad laughed, albeit sadly. “I want to help, but we can’t just go running off as we please.”

Elspeth clamped down on a spark of frustration. The keepers weren’t going to kill them. They weren’t even going to hurt them, not for wandering off, and they certainly weren’t going to turn them over to the Council or anything as ridiculous as that!

But she had to remind herself about the net of fear the keepers had built, fear which kept the young folk of Obernewtyn in their place. She couldn’t hope to disassemble that in a single day - not without seeing to Alexi, at least.

“All right,” she conceded quietly. “Now is not the right time. Then when?”

“Tonight?”

Elspeth heard the shrug in his tone. She met his eyes and nodded. “Tell me when and where.”

Alad pursed his lips. “Sure. Meet at the farm side of the maze at 11 o’clock. I’ll talk to Roland and - you said we’ll need a what, an Empath?” he frowned. “What’s that? Are you one?”

Elspeth racked her brain and came up with only two possible candidates.

“Do you know of a girl called Kella?” Elspeth hazarded.

Alad frowned and shook his head. “Sorry. Is she new?”

“Okay,” Elspeth nodded, realising that even if Kella was here, if Alad didn’t know of her, there’d be no time to find and convince her to join them tonight. Dameon, then. “I’ll provide the Empath if you provide the Healer.”

“It’s a date.”

Elspeth cringed. “Um, okay to be clear?” she whispered. “That’s not what this is.”

Alad scrunched up his nose. “What?”

“A date. It’s not a… _date_ date. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me-“

Alad held up his hands and laughed, cutting her off. “Nope! No ideas!” he confirmed in a mild state of panic.

“It’s just that, some people in the past have gotten the wrong idea about relationships that I assumed were platonic, and unfortunately I’m _very_ dense when it comes to figuring these things out-“

“No, no - it’s okay,” Alad tried not to laugh again, which Elspeth actually found startlingly adorable, coming from him. “You’re cute but you’re what, eleven-?”

“Fourteen,” Elspeth spluttered indignantly.

“Okay fine but still, I’m not interested in children, and I don’t usually bring people I want to date on rescue missions with the most impatient man I know and an Empath I’ve never heard of.”

“Right,” Elspeth flushed, because sometimes being truthful and open really was this awkward. Still. Better than the alternative. “Thank you for…clearing that up,” she murmured.

“Right,” Alad echoed, his hands settling on his hips as he exhaled toward the barn ceiling. “So it’s settled. 11 o’clock, farm-side maze gate, bring a friend, save the wolves.”

“Yes,” Elspeth confirmed. “Thank you.”

Now she’d just need to convince Dameon to sneak out of the big house with her tonight, and not get it into _his_ head that it was a date.

—

It was when their group traipsed back through the maze to go to lastmeal that Elspeth had a chance to speak to Dameon in private - meaning, she sent him a mental nudge and blurted out that she needed to talk to him.

He seemed perplexed by her nervousness, but cautiously agreed, and Elspeth called out for Cameo and Matthew to go on without them.

Matthew was supported by Cameo this time (apologising over and over for the pig smell), and the pair seemed both happy and anxious about splitting their numbers. Elspeth asked them to save places at dinner, for they would not be long.

Cameo helped Matthew limp into the dining hall, and Elspeth swiftly realised that she would have to lead Dameon somewhere more private, even if they spoke mind-to-mind.

She sighed and reached gingerly for his hand. “We can’t talk here, sorry,” she murmured.

“You are, aren’t you?” Dameon queried, a small tuck to his brow. “Yet - you make me feel as though I should be the one apologising.”

He said it with that warm edge to his tone that told her he was joking, but it kind of stung, considering his last apology (ten years into the future) had lacked sincerity as well.

Elspeth closed her eyes and chuckled awkwardly so she wouldn’t cry. “I can’t talk about that right now. Come on, there are lives at stake.”

Dameon seemed even more confused but allowed Elspeth to tow him around the buildings and into a garden overflowing with wild thistles.

“Elspeth - I...” he hesitated, gently but pointedly withdrawing his hand from her grip. “You need to tell me what this is about. Why are you so afraid? Has somebody hurt you?”

Elspeth stared at him, her hands on her hips, and shook her head. Not yet. Not ever, she hoped. “Do you know of the wolves Ariel keeps on the grounds?”

“I understand,” Dameon’s mouth wrinkled distastefully. “You mean the ones he tortured into madness?”

“Yes, tortured with his own Empathy. Emotions that he bundled up and pushed onto those creatures without their consent, to drive them to feel his feelings. Those wolves,” she told him, dejected.

“I know of them,” he stood a little taller.

“Good,” Elspeth sighed. Talking to him was getting easier. “I’m freeing them with a couple of the others I met on the farms, tonight, and I need an Empath to help.”

Dameon’s pale ginger eyebrow arched. “You believe I will be able to help?” he asked quietly.

Elspeth realised what she had to ask him to do, and grit her teeth together. “I need you to make them calm enough for our Healer to heal.”

“You want me to press false emotions onto them to make them compliant.”

“Just so they don’t kill us before we can help them,” Elspeth winced.

“Might they not resent being forced to feel anything not of their own making, if an...ability such as mine created their torment?” Dameon’s brow remained arched.

“They might,” she dug her nails into her palms. “Though this is no different to...holding down a mad person to keep them from hurting others while administering medicine,” Elspeth took a bracing breath. “Only we’d be holding them down with Empathy, not physical force, and repairing the damage, not merely managing it.”

“I see,” Dameon acknowledged quietly, then tilted his head. “Do you have a plan for if you’re caught sneaking out of the house with a blind boy after curfew?”

Elspeth rolled her eyes, though her heart hammered traitorously in her chest. “Let them think what they like of it. This is strictly a rescue mission, both you and I know that.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dameon smiled, self-deprecating. “Should a keeper, or informant find us. What will you tell them?”

Elspeth commanded herself to stop drawing the wrong conclusion. “I’ll improvise.”

Dameon’s smile widened briefly with a huff of breath. “I’m not sure I’m willing to risk my life and exposure of my ability for improvisation,” he held both hands out in a placating manner. “I’m sure you’re very good at it,” he covered, “but I am not.”

“Okay,” Elspeth crossed her arms as her mind scrambled for a better plan. “I can hide us. With. You know.”

The unseeing eyes actually widened. “You...can?”

Elspeth nodded. “Yes.”

“How?”

He seemed genuinely curious, so Elspeth told him about creating mental nets of disinterest.

“Wow,” Dameon managed when she’d finished, a small, baffled smile in place. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s not really,” Elspeth cringed, wanting zero reasons for Dameon to believe her to be anything but ordinary. “Any coercer could do it.”

“It’s still amazing. All right, Elspeth,” Dameon held out his hand, for her to shake on it. “If you can coercively hide us from discovery, I will try my best to empathise the wolves into a state where they might be healed.”

Elspeth shook his hand and relief filled her. “Great. Thank you for not making this weird,” she tried a laugh. “Even though - I sort of did that anyway. I’ll come find you, after lights are out.”

“Sure,” Dameon’s smile persisted, and Elspeth didn’t need Empathy to be able to tell how happy he was that she sought him out; happy that anybody considered he might be useful.

As she guided him back to the dining hall, she hoped he wouldn’t latch on to that as the basis for a crush.

—

It was impossible for Elspeth’s anxiety about Dameon to last once they were back in the Dining Hall. Sitting in the warmth of the once-familiar hall where she had eaten meals and occasionally even danced, now with her friends and brother all alive, gave her an emotional high that threatened to burst out of her as big, overwhelmed tears.

Matthew had introduced Cameo to Jes and Rosamunde while Elspeth and Dameon had talked, and Jes shot Elspeth only a questioning look as she accepted the empty seat beside him. Cameo introduced Dameon to the pair while she helped him to the spare seat between Rosamunde (on Jes’ other side), and Matthew.

“Madame Vega was looking for you,” Jes ducked, hissing through his teeth. “I told her you were being shown around the farms.”

Elspeth nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. I will go see her, after dinner.”

Jes shot her a sideways glance. “That’s not a good idea. Wait until she summons you.”

Elspeth snorted. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Jes insisted. “She asked if we had seen Ariel, too,” he added with a hint of accusation. “Wasn’t that the name of the boy you frightened?”

Elspeth shot him an unimpressed look. “I tried to help him.”

“Rosa told her that he was rude, and ran off,” Jes sat back, stared down at his meal. “Apparently nobody’s seen him since.”

That might complicate things, Elspeth thought privately, wondering if she had effected the boy…that badly, from a single altercation. She would have to add ‘finding Ariel’s hiding spot’ to her increasingly growing to-do list.

“So what did you do today?” Elspeth changed the subject. “You didn’t make it to the farms.”

Jes’ face twisted oddly, and she felt the unhoned knock against her mind before she realised what that face meant.

“ _You should try to remain externally neutral when you do that,_ ” Elspeth schooled from the confines of her mind.

“ _What are you, the expert in mind to mind communication?_ ” Jes sent.

Elspeth had to clamp down on her immediate response. “ _I’m just trying to keep you safe._ ”

“ _Yeah, well if you mean that, you can start by being more careful,_ ” Jes’ expression flattened, and he resumed eating his meal instead of just…staring at nothing. “ _Madame Vega interviewed Rosamunde and I._ ”

Elspeth took a bite of the meal someone had collected for her; an eggy, cheesy thing with a dense, spongy texture. An uncreative mind might have dared called it a quiche. She swallowed distastefully, longing for Javo’s non-hostile takeover of the kitchens. “ _Does she suspect either of you harbour abilities?_ ”

“ _Actually…she doesn’t seem to care about us,_ ” Jes admitted, more tentative. “ _Mostly she wants to know about you. I think she wanted to get into my mind and take what she wanted to know, but she didn’t want to barge through the shield. She thinks I’m naturally shielded, by the way._ ”

“ _Only because it’s a new shield,_ ” Elspeth explained, relieved to have at least been able to teach him that. “ _While it’s tempering, the net contains inconsistencies. Like the root system of a tree, taking hold under the earth. Eventually it’ll be strong, like…an orchard,_ ” she wrinkled her nose at her ineffectual analogy.

“ _Fascinating,_ ” Jes mentally drawled, clearly the opposite of fascinated. “ _I’m telling you this so you know what story to maintain, when she questions you._ ”

Elspeth mentally scoffed. “ _She can’t get into my mind. She’s already tried, and revealed herself to me by doing so._ ”

“ _But still,_ ” Jes warned, part sternness, part soft. “ _I’m not sure she’s as benevolent as you believe. She wants to use your abilities to track down some kind of…Beforetime technology._ “

“ _She told you this?_ ”

“ _Not exactly,_ ” Jes pressed on. “ _My point is - I’m not sure what epiphany you went through recently, but seeing the best in people up here will probably get you hurt._ ”

“ _I agree,_ ” Elspeth replied smoothly, taking another bite of the Lud-awful food. Damn Andra. “ _And that is why I’m only trusting the best people. I can handle Vega,_ ” she added.

“ _I’m not sure you can._ ”

“ _Trust me._ ”

“ _Why?_ ” Jes fell into exasperation, and Elspeth was surprised his only bodily sign of it was gripping his cup very tightly as he took a drink of water. “ _How can you be so confident and open and delighted about all of this, after-?_ ”

He cut himself off, detangling his hand from the cup.

Elspeth waited for him to finish. She knew he was thinking about the emotional block he’d placed on her.

Because he was in her mind, and he was thinking about it.

She decided to put him out of that misery. “ _After you blocked my supramarginal gyrus?_ ”

Jes actually shot her an incredulous look. “ _Your what-al whats-us?_ ”

“ _My ability to express emotions. It’s regulated by a section of the brain, called the supramarginal gyrus,_ ” Elspeth made a ducking nod, toward his food. “ _Keep eating._ ”

Jes’ ears turned bright red, but the boy continued mechanically. “ _So. How did you find out?_ ”

“ _It’s a long story,_ ” Elspeth mentally puffed; it was like a swoosh of snowflakes.

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” Jes admitted in a suppressed-kind of way. “ _I didn’t know what I’d done until I’d done it,_ ” he admitted. “ _You were just…so scared, and sad, and I wanted to make it stop. Make it better._ ”

“ _I gathered as much,_ ” Elspeth wanted to offer comfort; she didn’t blame him. “ _But you can rest easy on that account. The damage has been repaired._ ”

“ _Since when? And how?_ ” Jes masked his emotions by clearing his throat, and reached for his water again.

Rosamunde, on his other side, frowned. “Are you okay?”

Jes nodded dismissively.

They didn’t really have the time to discuss this in a mind conversation so Elspeth mentally shrugged. “ _I worked through it. Maturely and sensibly._ ”

Jes mentally snorted. “ _You’re fourteen._ ”

“ _You’re an idiot,_ ” Elspeth returned, droll. “ _I’ll be fifteen soon. It happened about a week ago._ ”

“ _Ugh,_ ” her brother groaned. “ _Promise me this isn’t how you start conversations about your time of the month._ ”

“ _Grow up,_ ” Elspeth’s indignation flared. “ _You’d better not be this dismissive when Rosamunde goes through-_ “

“ _I’m not, I’m not!_ ” Jes back-pedalled bleakly. “ _And I know, you don’t have mum to talk to about it. But - can you talk to Rosa or someone - anyone else? Cameo seems nice. Or that dark-haired girl over at the top table, she looks old enough to have gone through that._ ”

She never envisaged having this conversation with her brother, ever. “ _A woman’s cycle is a part of every day life! How do you think you and I were born?!_ ”

“ _I just don’t want to talk about…Lud,_ ** _any_** _of that happening to my little sister. It’s bad enough that you walked in here with that ginger boy on your arm on_ ** _day one_** _-_ “

“ _He’s blind!_ ”

“ _Can we just agree that it was the tainted water?_ ” Jes pleaded. “ _That was when you changed._ ”

“ _Because_ ** _tainted water_** _is the more accepted catalyst than everyday hormonal changes occurring in a woman’s body,_ ” Elspeth mused breezily, wondering how this conversation had gotten so out of hand. “ _In fact, it had nothing to do with either, so you can stop cringing about it. I’ll tell you about it later. When we can talk properly._ ”

Jes’ tone was deadpan. “ _And what about Madame Vega? Are you going to help them?_ ”

“ _Not really. I’m going to distract them with a series of disconnected nuggets of truth,_ ” she admitted, smoothing her hackles back down. “ _Which will unfortunately, prove next to impossible for them to connect._ ”

Jes seemed to be at an overwhelmed loss. “ _Okay. I can see there’s no talking you out of this. But I don’t trust Madame Vega._ ”

“ _I don’t actually trust her, either,_ ” Elspeth moved on to her small serve of mushy peas. “ _But I have a better chance of understanding…what’s really going on here, if I keep an open mind._ ”

“ _Just not too open,_ ” Jes tried with a small mental laugh. “ _Be careful._ ”

“ _I’m always careful,_ ” Elspeth thought back. “ _But I am unwilling to be paranoid and baselessly judgemental._ ”

It was with some relief that Jes retreated from her mind then, and Elspeth slid down her shield, grateful that her brother hadn’t picked up any hint of the midnight rescue mission. He would definitely not approve, and then might do something even stupider and offer to come along.

After lastmeal, the group scattered, though Elspeth reminded Dameon privately that she would find him after lights had gone out. Dameon returned a quiet affirmative, but was otherwise neutral.

Elspeth visited the public bathrooms to clean the muck of the farms from her, to her shared room to change into something more house-appropriate, and then made her way to Madame Vega’s office.

She wondered over the inclusion of Jes in her life at this time, and while she would never regret his presence, Elspeth was struck by a sudden realisation that she had no idea what he would do. Would his presence assure a swifter takeover of Obernewtyn? Would Jes get along with Rushton? Which guild would he belong to?

Which talents did he even have, Elspeth countered, her eyes widening. He was a farseeker, that much she had picked up from their encounters. She remembered Rosamunde’s detached monologue explaining how Jes had killed a Soldierguard with his mind, so she knew he must have some level of Coercion, or combination of Empathy and Coercion, like Dragon. Or he really did have access to the black spirit power that Elspeth did.

She felt ill in considering it, but the latter did make the most sense. He would have used it to create the block in her mind. It was the only talent (that they were aware of) that allowed for such direct, precise manipulation of brain matter without alerting one to their presence. Sure, coercion could be used to twinge a nerve here and there, but it took a _lot_ more effort than it should have to take an ethereal ability designed to work on thought waves into a physical blow, and when it happened, it was _not_ subtle.

She dismissed such speculation as irrelevant to Jes’ choice of guild, if he decided to stay at Obernewtyn (and she didn’t see why he wouldn’t), and resolved that the next time she was able to sit and talk with her brother, she would do the adult thing and simply ask him what he knew of his abilities.

The halls of the western wing grew darker. It was then that Elspeth started to feel a little woozy. She blamed Andra, or more specifically, her liberal use of polenta and salt to bulk out their meals, but then Elspeth noticed the smell, and rolled her eyes. Her focus shifted to the slimy-looking green candles in their gargoyle-ish sconces at intervals along the hall. The sharp, herbal smell - perhaps rosemary? - did nothing to mask the chemical smell, which reminded Elspeth of something crossed between burnt Whitestick and burning hair.

She gagged, loudly, and drew the collar of her shirt up to cover her nose, hastening her step. She’d forgotten about the candles, the ones Vega lit when she didn’t want anyone approaching their offices.

Too bad, Elspeth thought, very suddenly wanting Vega to know that the candles would not effect her. She summoned a net to isolate the caustic stuff, which helped to clear her head while she walked.

Drawing herself up to the nondescript wooden door at the end of the third hallway, Elspeth knocked. After a moment of guilty silence, she felt a mental probe from within the room flit out to brush against her mind in wonder.

Elspeth caught Vega’s question, in a grip she could easily remove herself from, and mentally smiled. “ _It’s me. Can I come in?_ ”

She had the distant impression that this wasn’t a great time for her new guardian, but after a moment’s hesitation, the woman delicately detangled her probe and sent a brief, flat affirmative.

Elspeth let herself in to the office, thunking the door closed quietly behind her, then turning back to take in the room she had only a fleeting experience with, in this context. Of course, this very room would become their Guildhall eventually, so she was actually rather familiar with its architectural features.

It was strange to see the room again, in the way it had been, before. The light was very orange, washed by the bright hue given off by the enormous fire at the back of the expanse, and the blackout curtains were closed over the impressive vista of the grounds and Western mountains they would usually offer.

“Hello, Elspeth. Are you well?” Madame Vega asked primly.

Elspeth nodded, eyes finding the woman sat before a large hardwood desk, and her smile widened. Vega motioned for her to take the seat on the other side of the desk.

“I _am_ well. How was your day?” she asked as she crossed the room.

Rushton had kept the desk, but she had never seen him actually sit at and use it for anything.

Vega seemed to be at home with the desk though, and its contents were arranged in a way that Elspeth thought might echo the structure of the woman’s mind. There were too many books on it, too many scrolls of paper, and too many ink pots, but each had their place, arranged in an orderly, attractive fashion (though perhaps the books being stacked by colour was a massive coincidence).

Madame Vega betrayed a hint of confusion. “It was a day as frustrating as it was enlightening. How did you find the farms?” she enquired, a hint of accusation in her tone.

Elspeth sat, straightening her back and folding her hands before her in a way she hoped a fourteen-year-old might sit to look polite and eager. “They were amazing!” Elspeth’s eyes widened with delight. “The overseer had me muck out the stables, but I didn’t mind. I’ve made some wonderful friends already,” she explained.

“Friends on day one,” Madame Vega arched an eyebrow, just slightly. “You are the least cautious orphan I have ever met.”

“Oh, I choose my friends wisely,” Elspeth nodded happily. “I just refuse to be paranoid. I mean, how can anybody be paranoid in such a beautiful place,” she held her hands out, indicating their surrounds.

“I see the mountain air is to your tastes,” Vega’s tone softened, and she leaned back, her gaze shifting to a closed book before her; a journal, Elspeth thought. “Tell me about your friends?”

“Well,” Elspeth knew that to be reticent would raise suspicion. “I met Matthew first, giving my brother his tour. Rosa stayed with Jes, and as my guide had left us,” Elspeth caught the swift, sharp look Vega sent her, “Matthew agreed to take me to the farms.”

“How did you get through the maze without a keeper?”

Elspeth faltered. “Should…we not be able to?” she asked haltingly.

Madame Vega blinked and turned her eyes back down. “Who else did you meet?”

The girl continued talking, listing literally everybody she had seen, not only to muddle Vega’s notes and remove suspicion about alliances, but also because Elspeth leapt at the chance to be nostalgic.

Fifteen minutes later and Madame Vega seemed to realise that there was no use in letting Elspeth proceed. “You mentioned your guide, before,” Vega interrupted her detailed recall of the piglet delivery.

“Yes, Ariel,” Elspeth sat straighter.

Vega’s brows crossed a little as she stared at the book before her. “What made him leave you?”

“I wish I knew!” Elspeth threw up her hands. “He ran off before we could stop him. Is he okay?” Elspeth asked. “He seemed very afraid.”

The woman’s mouth straightened. “Can you detail what transpired between you?”

“Certainly,” Elspeth agreed, staring pensively at a point above their heads. “I heard someone approach our room and I went to meet him while Rosa got changed. I introduced myself, determined who he was, and,” Elspeth frowned thoughtfully. “He seemed really hesitant to talk about his father, come to think of it,” she mused, meeting Vega’s eye. “Is that why he was so afraid?”

Vega betrayed nothing. Her fingers knitted to support her chin and her vivid blue eyes fixed on Elspeth’s face. “Facts before speculation, if you please.”

“Right,” Elspeth smiled apologetically. “So, he started to get angry about that, I told him to stop it, Rosamunde joined us, said hello, he called us both crazy, and bolted. It was really strange,” Elspeth sighed, frowning as she picked a speck from the blue skirt she had unearthed in the store of clothes. “He tried to push his abilities onto me, too. I don’t think he…liked it, when I pushed back.”

Vega didn’t skip a beat, her gaze resolutely fixed. “My apologies on his behalf. Ariel is gifted, just as you and I are, if not more so,” the woman explained.

“I know,” Elspeth met her gaze, a troubled frown in place. “I offered to help him.”

“He is also exceedingly stubborn and proud,” Vega sighed to the ceiling. “Just like his father.”

Elspeth tried not to appear over-eager to turn the conversation to Alexi. “But beneath that,” Elspeth pressed. “He’s just a little kid carrying around a lot of anxiety. And…I got the impression that his father was the source of that.”

Madame Vega pursed her lips. “Did you read his past from him?”

She hadn’t; she’d merely learnt about Ariel from Maruman, and then conducted their first meeting with eyes wide open, but Elspeth latched onto the assumption and nodded, letting a flush of embarrassment stain her cheeks. It would help draw their attention to her abilities, and leave Selmar and Cameo alone.

“I didn’t mean to,” Elspeth lowered her tone. “But I…wanted to understand what made him afraid, so I could help him.”

Vega somewhat stilled, and blinked several times, searchingly, at Elspeth. She felt the brush of Vega’s probe against her shield, thoughtful and curious, but simply ignored it. She knew the woman wouldn’t dare barge into her mind, more because there would be little point in trying, and she had the impression that Vega understood just how strong Elspeth’s abilities were.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet. “You truly want to help Ariel?”

Cheeks stained pink, Elspeth lifted her head, to meet Vega’s gaze, and nodded. Let Vega make of that what she would; Elspeth was determined to not turn her back on the child, knowing that he had the capacity to turn into a monster.

But then, didn’t all humans have that capacity?

“It doesn’t mean he’s allowed to make others feel what he’s too scared to experience, and control people with fear,” Elspeth explained quietly. “I’d never use my abilities like that. Neither would you,” she added.

Madame Vega shifted a little, and changed the subject. “Have you seen him since he…” she checked her notes. “Ran off?”

Elspeth shook her head, letting confusion wash away the last of the embarrassment. “Haven’t you?”

Vega shook her head, her lips thinning. “He has places he…retreats to, when he needs to think. I have not searched them all, yet.”

“Can I help?” Elspeth tapped her temple.

The woman shook her head. “It would be best if I found him by…conventional means.”

“All right,” Elspeth folded her hands in her lap again.

“Though I do appreciate the offer,” Madame Vega seemed hesitant to say it, and her tone grew soft. “He is not often considered…worthy of being rescued.”

Elspeth’s determination flared with a bright, furious burst of indignation, and she nearly asked the woman some very probing questions on the spot, chief amongst them how she had stood back and allowed anything to happen to him in the first place.

“He’s just a child,” Elspeth whispered. “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t try to protect him?”

Vega nodded speculatively at this, and Elspeth drew up and made herself remember that despite Vega’s air of…friendliness, she may still turn into a monster herself. If she wasn’t a tightly honed and well-practised one already.

On this matter, she was extremely uncertain. Vega seemed to contain all manner of conflict and nuances that she hadn’t been privy to the last time around. The woman seemed to care about Ariel’s well being, though Elspeth knew for a fact that Ariel was not her biological child. Perhaps she “cared” about him as she did her; to the extent of her usefulness, in the assistance of obtaining her goal. For if she genuinely worried about him - how could she have stood by and allowed Alexi to experiment on him?

How could she have allowed any of it?

Vega jotted some notes down in her journal for a while, and Elspeth waited patiently, wondering where Ariel’s birth mother was? Had she passed away, or given him up - and why? For that matter, how and when had Alexi come to procreate with anyone, as much as the prospect sickened her?

Her guardian seemed to think the matter of Ariel’s whereabouts closed, and once she put her quill down, started to ask Elspeth about the extent of her own abilities, and how she had come to realise them.

Elspeth grew more hesitant here, recalling Jes’ multiple pleas that she be more cautious. Regardless of the freedom they had won in her original time; right now, to admit to having misfit abilities was a crime punishable by Councilfarm work at best, and death by burning at worst.

But as Madame Vega was a misfit herself, and since outing her, they had not hid the existence of such abilities from one another, Elspeth’s caution was fleeting.

She chose her truths; she could talk to people, in their minds. She told Vega she called this farseeking, simply because it didn’t hurt anything for her to call it what it was.

Vega accepted this with some more scribbles in her journal, and asked, “What of your other abilities? You seem unaccustomedly adept at what I would call ‘reading’ people.”

Elspeth nodded slowly. “Yes, all right. I suppose reading is a good way of putting it,” she offered a hesitant shrug. “Sometimes, when I’m near someone or something…I get flashes. Memories,” she supplied, because it was a good explanation, and it was actually the truth. “But they’re not really memories,” she covered, “because they’re of things that haven’t happened yet.”

“Such as Truedreams?” Vega enquired.

“Usually I’m conscious,” Elspeth admitted. “And it’s not like I go around using it on people for fun. It usually happens when I’m talking to them, and it’s stronger when I touch them, unless they’re shielded of course, like yourself,” she added.

She couldn’t let Vega know that she knew what she knew about her, even if she had no clue to her motivations.

Elspeth caught the silver of relief from the woman, who grew slightly brighter. “What a fascinating ability. I am very pleased you have been open and honest with me, Elspeth.”

The girl tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Elspeth asked. “I’m actually relieved to be able to talk about them with somebody who isn’t going to turn me over to the Herders.”

Madame Vega gave the girl a small smile. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

Elspeth suppressed a shudder, and glanced to the bookshelf that hid the passage leading outside of the house, to what would become the Teknoguild caves, someday. “Do you want me to look at her diaries now?” Elspeth queried.

“Soon,” Madame Vega dusted some drying powder over what she had written. “My colleague is indisposed at the moment. I would like to introduce you to him properly.”

“You mean Ariel’s father?” Elspeth asked in a too-calm voice. “Yes, I am eager to meet with him.”

Madame Vega shot her a warning look. “Do not seek him out,” she insisted, quiet but stern. “Especially on Ariel’s behalf.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Elspeth murmured.

“I am confident that Alexi will want to meet with you soon. Tomorrow you are to remain at the house, and I will have someone collect you when he is ready.”

Elspeth nodded that she understood.

Vega hesitated, before adding. “If you happen to…pick up on hidden abilities from your peers, I would appreciate knowing about them.”

Elspeth clamped down on the indignation. “But - wouldn’t they just tell you?”

Madame Vega fixed her with a more knowing smile. “They are…what was the term you used? Paranoid.”

“Of you?!” Elspeth feigned aghast. “That’s insane!”

Vega smiled and lowered her eyes. “You must have heard the stories about Obernewtyn before you were brought here,” she commented. “Children are raised to fear us, and perhaps we allow them to believe that there is something to fear, in order to keep aspects of our research…from prying eyes and ears. It takes a great deal of maturity and intelligence to rise above social conditioning and expectations to…” she met Elspeth’s eye, “have courage in the face of exposure.”

The slightly nauseous feeling in Elspeth’s stomach lurched when she smiled. “My brother would call it stupidity,” she admitted. “But, I can’t be afraid of you.”

“As you have shown me,” Vega’s eyebrows lifted briefly as she rose and motioned toward the door. “Good night, Elspeth.”

“Good night,” Elspeth stood, kicking herself for not spotting the conclusion of their interview sooner. She had wanted to move conversation to Henry Druid, somehow.

No matter. There would be other conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably add at this point that I really had no idea how things were going to pan out with Ariel, Vega and (still to come) Alexi - I just shoved an Elspeth-with-emotions into the situation and let her figure out how to handle them. And this is the result.


	8. Where the Wild Things Are

Elspeth readied herself for the late-night expedition to the farms, chucking her night gown over the top of a comfortable ensemble of leggings, tunics and thick socks.

She slid the cheerful headband Rosamunde had loaned her off and tried to plait her bob into braids (it was too short; she settled on pigtails). Rosamunde joined her in the room soon after and the pair chatted about their largely separate first days.

When Rosamunde brought up the meeting Elspeth had come from with Vega, Elspeth waved a dismissive hand.

“She’s worried about Ariel. I expect she asked you the same questions.”

Rosamunde looked a little uncomfortable, and Elspeth turned to look at her properly, tilting her head. “She…didn’t ask about Ariel?”

“Oh, she did,” Rosamunde recovered, smoothing her hands to rest beside her, instead of tumbling her fingers together in her lap. “But…I don’t want to frighten you Elf, but she seemed more interested in you.”

Elspeth wrinkled her nose. “I’m not that interesting.”

“She thinks you are,” Rosamunde persisted gently. “Do you know what she wants from you?”

Elspeth gave the girl a worry-free smile; Jes may have already told Rosa about Vega’s desire to unearth Beforetime technology. “Yes. And I am going to help them,” she said, because again, it was easier to be truthful than to lie to her; too many lies would become difficult to remember. “I’m going to help all of you.”

Rosamunde looked distinctly uncomfortable, and lowered her voice. “But - they want forbidden technology, Elspeth,” she hissed, brown eyes wide with fright.

Elspeth shrugged. “It’s not as easy to find as they think,” she tried to make light of it.

“Yes but why do they think _you_ could you find such things?”

With a steadying breath to the ceiling, Elspeth realised that to hide her abilities from Rosamunde, when literally everybody else knew about them, was incredibly unfair. Drawing to a decision, she glanced to the girl, sitting across from her on her own bed. “Can I tell you something, even if it’s a bit…scary?”

Rosamunde’s brows furrowed. “Of course. We are - practically - sisters.”

“But - you need to promise you won’t treat me differently,” Elspeth whispered. “I…really value your friendship,” she admitted.

“Elspeth,” Rosamunde managed a quiet, nervous laugh. “Tell me what is wrong?”

Elspeth took another steeling breath and nodded. She didn’t want to just barge into Rosamunde’s mind; in fact, she’d resolved the girl’s mind was resolutely off limits.

“I’m a misfit,” she told her.

Rosamunde’s brows became even more furrowed. “Yes, I know,” she blinked. “What did you want to tell me?”

Elspeth let out a great, gushing breath. “You _know_?”

“Jes told me,” Rosamunde admitted quietly, her cheeks adopting that haze of pink they usually did when she brought up Elspeth’s brother. “He told me about both of you.”

Elspeth felt a flame of anger toward Jes flare in her belly. “That wasn’t his secret to tell,” she managed quietly.

Even if it did make matters far less complicated.

“I know,” Rosamunde met Elspeth’s gaze, lifting her eyebrows. “I told him that, too. But once said,” she held out her hands. “It couldn’t exactly be un-said.”

Elspeth huffed a bleak laugh and lowered her eyes, the sense of betrayal warring with the knowledge that she had also, freely, told Matthew about Jes’ abilities earlier today.

But that was different! Matthew was a farseeker; he would have found out for himself, anyway.

 _Why should that matter_ , Elspeth asked herself crossly. Just because Rosamunde isn’t a misfit, she doesn’t deserve to know?

“Why did you worry about telling me so much?” Rosamunde asked gently, shifting from her bed, to sink down next to Elspeth. A tentative hand rest on Elspeth’s shoulder. “Did you worry that I would denounce you?” Rosamunde continued. 

Because last time, Rosamunde had denounced her. She had coerced her to.

Tears stung the corner of her eyes, and she lowered her head, to let herself cry, just a little. It wasn’t healthy to bottle this, whether it was guilt or relief or both, and Rosamunde wouldn’t judge her for crying.

“Oh Elf,” Rosamunde said in a quiet, understanding tone, her arm shifting to cradle the younger girl’s shoulder. “You have been so strong for us in the past days. You got us out of that horrible orphanhome. Why would I care if you are a misfit?”

Elspeth blubbered a little. “Aren’t you afraid of me?” she asked through her - stupid - bangs.

“No,” Rosamunde smiled and brushed the - stupid - bangs back from her forehead. “Besides, it’s not like you’d use your abilities on me.”

“No,” Elspeth closed her eyes, let Rosamunde draw her into a hug. “Only a monster would do such a thing.”

The tears were short-lived, and a brighter relief filled Elspeth once Rosamunde returned to her own bed. Elspeth settled under her covers to fein sleep until it was time to retrieve Dameon.

Being better still hurt, but the outcome bore far more hope.

The girls talked quietly for a time, from their beds. Rosamunde had a lot of questions, about the extents of her abilities. Elspeth recalled Rosamunde had chosen to work with the Futuretellers, last time (meeting Valda in the process), and she wondered whether the girl was more suited to the teknoguilders instead. Perhaps she would choose differently, this time.

Perhaps they all would.

—

Elspeth was startled out of her doze by a short, swift stab to her mind, like a finger had poked her in the ear to get her attention.

“Whassaa?” Elspeth sat up groggily, slamming her shield down and clenching at her temple. “Ow!”

A quiet giggle met her ears, and Elspeth felt the bed shake gently beneath her. Hand to her head, she opened groggy eyes and spied the small figure sitting, cross-legged, on the end of her bed.

“You’re going to miss your meeting, Elspeth.”

Elspeth gave the girl an exasperated look and dispensed with the pretences she’d used on the others. There was no need with Selmar.

How old was she, eleven? Thirteen? It was difficult to tell and she plain didn’t remember.

“ _It is good to meet you, Selmar,_ ” Elspeth sent to her on a private channel. “ _But next time - please wake me a little more gently._ ”

Selmar grabbed her crossed legs and stretched her arms, studying Elspeth with a tilt to her head. “ _I can see why Alad trusts you._ ”

“ _Good,_ ” Elspeth returned, groaning quietly as she pushed aside the covers and threw a glance Rosamunde’s way. Still asleep.

With a swift, brief motion, Elspeth pointed toward the door. “ _Did Alad send you?_ ”

Selmar untangled her thin limbs and scrambled off the bed, making a pointing motion for herself. “ _You forgot your shoes._ ”

“ _So did you,_ ” Elspeth glanced to her bare feet. “ _Aren’t your feet cold? Do you want to borrow some socks?_ ”

Selmar peered down with avid curiosity as she wiggled her toes. “ _I did forget them again, didn’t I. I’m sorry,_ ” she sent to Elspeth with minor distress. “ _I forget so much these days._ ”

Flashing another wary glance Rosamunde’s way, Elspeth chucked her boots under her arm, grabbed a pair of socks at random, and ushered the nearly-crying girl into the hall.

Once she had clicked the door closed behind them, Elspeth cocooned them in a net of coercion, in case her neighbours were light sleepers.

“ _You remembered to get me,_ ” Elspeth pointed out to the girl gently, maintaining the mind link and offering the socks. “ _Did…one of Rushton’s people send you?_ ” she tried again.

Selmar took the socks with a sniffle, staring at it with a tilt to her head. “ _These are mittens._ ”

Cursing, Elspeth took them back and studied the bundle. Yeap. Mittens.

“ _Sorry,_ ” Elspeth tried to make light of it, sitting on the cold, hard flagstones to pull off her own socks. “ _You can use mine._ ”

“ _Won’t your feet blister?_ ” Selmar accepted the warm - but still clean, as they had only been put on before bed - socks.

Elspeth dismissed with a shake to her head. “ _I’ve had worse. Look,_ ” she tried to get the girl on task for a third time. “ _Did one of Rushton’s allies send you or not? How did you know to come here?_ ”

Selmar sat opposite Elspeth, brief tears drying on her cheeks. “ _I saw you would sleep through your meeting and they would be caught because of your laziness._ ”

Elspeth nodded slowly, working desperately to shield her response; sheer panic and bristling indignation. She wasn’t lazy. But the girl was already scared enough. “ _In your…dream,_ ” Elspeth supplied. “ _Who caught them?_ ”

“ _Vega,_ ” Selmar met Elspeth’s eye.

Elspeth held her gaze, noting that she either hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t remembered, that the girl’s eyes were the most lovely shade of indigo, even if there were heavy bags under them. She was sure she would have remembered such a unique colour, but then, more obvious details had slipped her notice in those days. “ _I’m not afraid of Vega,_ ” Elspeth told Selmar steadily.

Selmar cringed, and she shook her head. “ _You need to be._ ”

“ _I do understand,_ ” Elspeth took the girl’s hands - really, she wanted to draw the little thing into a hug and put her to bed. She looked exhausted. “ _But Selmar, regardless of what you have seen - I’m going to protect you from - all of them. I swear to you._ ”

Selmar’s face crumpled in dismay.

“ _What did I say?_ ” Elspeth spluttered.

Selmar shook her head, patting Elspeth’s hands as she detangled herself. “ _We have to go. Now. You’re the only one who can save them,_ ” she whispered.

“ _Vega isn’t going to hurt Rushton’s people,_ ” Elspeth insisted.

Selmar stood, her now-socked feet swooshing gently on the flags. She met Elspeth’s eye. “ _Only if you’re with us._ ”

“ _Us?_ ”

“ _We must go,_ ” Selmar motioned, then shuffled down the corridor in the direction of the boy’s dorms.

Elspeth stayed close to keep the net secure around them.

Louis Larkin had called her the Hope of Obernewtyn, at one point.

Elspeth chucked off her nightgown and threw it into a laundry basket as they hurried past it, her mind ticking over the only two possibilities to explain Selmar’s presence.

Possibility one: Selmar was a Futureteller. Selmar had seen a snatch of the future. That without her, Alad and Roland, and anybody else with them, would be discovered. Elspeth’s presence would keep that from happening.

Possibility two: Selmar was not a Futureteller. She had joined Rushton and his allies tonight at some meeting discussing tonight’s rescue, and forgotten about going to it. She had said so herself; she forgot a lot these days.

Unerringly soon they were standing before a door and Selmar resumed communication. “ _He’s in there._ ”

Elspeth nodded, her eyes on the door, and she sent a probe into the dorm, searching for Dameon. The boy was (unlike her) still awake.

“ _I was wondering if you had changed your mind,_ ” he greeted when she made contact.

Elspeth ignored the vaguely nervous undertone to his words, and told him to meet them in the hall.

“ _Us?_ ” he questioned, though she could tell he had risen and was walking toward the door.

“ _Yes. One of our…allies for the mission tonight is with me,_ ” she covered, taking a step back, glancing back and forth along the empty hallway. She let the coercive net down, so Dameon could see them.

As soon as the boy opened the door, Elspeth took hold of his wrist and sent for Selmar to close the door behind them. “ _Quietly_ ,” she added swiftly.

“ _As a mouse,_ ” Selmar whispered into her mind, then crept forward.

Dameon’s eyes stared ahead as usual, but he brought his other hand up to touch Elspeth’s. “ _I don’t appreciate being manhandled,_ ” he told her gently.

With a flush, Elspeth withdrew and shook her head. “ _I’m so sorry. I’m just…nervous,_ ” she sent. “ _About tonight._ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Dameon concurred oddly with a little cough as he cleared his throat. “ _Tonight._ ”

“ _Stop that,_ ” Elspeth warned, though her chest clenched at the need to remind him to ignore her emotions. She then remembered he couldn’t exactly help it, before he took it upon himself to gently remind her of the same fact.

“ _It would be like insisting you ignore someone yelling at you from inches before your face._ ”

But she had to leave her frontal shield down, so they could communicate. “ _Dameon - do you know Selmar?_ ” she attempted a distraction.

“ _Selmar,_ ” Dameon frowned, thoughtful. “ _I’m not sure we have met._ ”

The girl returned from her lengthy mission of closing the door without making any sound. “ _Hello,_ ” she slipped into their mental conversation. To Elspeth’s astonishment, Selmar wordlessly offered Dameon her arm, and the boy accepted.

An itch to her mind; she realised with a start that they were communicating without her, and tried to dispel her awkwardness. They were allowed to speak privately.

“ _Selmar is coming with us,_ ” she told the boy, weaving the coercive net of disinterest to include all three of them.

The younger girl insisted they hurry up, for it was already fifteen minutes past eleven.

Elspeth inwardly groaned as they shuffled along the corridors. She doubted Alad and Roland would have waited so long for them. Perhaps all this sneaking about would be for nothing.

In silence, they exited using one of the back doors and shuffled across the courtyard toward the maze, Selmar guiding Dameon all the while. It was good they were able to help one another. Elspeth had no reason to feel un-needed; Selmar had stressed they would be catastrophically caught if she slept through their rescue attempt.

Elspeth tossed a glance at the clock on its twisted spire, its face lit up just enough by the waning moon light, and suppressed the urge to groan again. It was closer to half eleven, and it was with a sinking sense of certainty that Elspeth accepted they had probably missed their window of opportunity. It would be a miracle if Alad was still waiting for her. Roland wouldn’t have stayed beyond five minutes past the rendezvous time.

“Who’s there?”

Elspeth stilled, holding her arm up to prevent Selmar, and thus Dameon, from crashing onward. The pair thudded into her outstretched hand, and she heard Selmar suck in a very tense, quick breath.

She recognised the voice, but Elspeth found it difficult to believe, even after Selmar’s warning. She searched, her eyes glued to the far reach of the building where a flutter of lantern light appeared, and behind it…

“I heard you, skulking around out there,” Madame Vega’s tight voice travelled across the courtyard. A breeze ruffled her cape and hair, and with her free hand, she tugged her hood up as she held the lantern aloft. “Show yourself.”

Selmar clawed desperately at Elspeth’s mind, but she pawed her off gently, reminding the girl that according to her logic, this was why she was here.

“ _But she will send her mind out!_ ” Selmar mentally screeched. “ _She’ll find us all!_ ”

Elspeth privately asked Dameon to help.

“ _I’m trying,_ ” he insisted. “ _She won’t let me, she keeps pushing the emotions off._ ”

Elspeth slammed her shield down before she could utter the snippy ‘never stopped you before’, and bodily pushed the pair backwards, toward the moon shadow of the house.

Selmar covered her mouth with a tight hand, her eyes wide. “ _You slept for too long,_ ” she accused.

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” she returned, pushing the past aside. “ _I will deal with this,_ ” she promised. “ _When I am gone, Selmar, take Dameon through the maze. Look for the wear marks in the grass. Alad will be waiting for you…I hope. If not, Selmar take Dameon to Larkin’s hut to find them, then - finish the job,_ ” she insisted. “ _Save the wolves._ ”

“ _But this was your idea, I don’t understand what I am meant to do,_ ” Dameon rushed.

“ _Help them. Take your cues from Roland. I’ll get rid of Vega,_ ” Elspeth promised, stepping outside of the bounds of her coercive net to encourage the pair to remain still, and where they were. So long as they remained silent, they’d be hidden.

With an apologetic smile, she snuck sideways. “ _I believe in you, both of you,_ ” she insisted. “ _I know you can do it._ ”

The sound of Vega’s boots clopping swiftly across the cobbles prevented Elspeth from lengthening the farewell even further.

She turned, shuffling through the shadows toward the door they had exited moments ago, knowing her footfalls would draw the guardian’s attentions.

“Show yourself!”

When she reached the door, she pointedly ignored Selmar’s mental cry of alarm and stood tall.

“Madame Vega?” she called out, her tone purposefully hesitant.

The woman was half way across the courtyard, but her eyes snapped to the place Elspeth stood, wide with alarm. She saw her, even in the dim moonlight, and squinted. “Elspeth?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she admitted, pushing off the door as though she had just come through it.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Vega hissed, glancing either side of her uncertainly.

“Sorry,” Elspeth lowered her eyes, feigning guilt, and thought fast. “I couldn’t sleep. I feel awful about scaring that little boy today, particularly after you told me he hasn’t been seen since. I hoped to…” she faltered. “It’s my fault he ran away. I can find him.”

Madame Vega pursed her lips, her eyes wary as they flit to the shadows where Dameon and Selmar stood, gratefully still hidden by Elspeth’s net of disinterest. “You should not have left your room,” she chided, attentions caught by some flicker of movement. “Return to it at once, and I will forget that we had this conversation.”

Elspeth felt Vega loosening a probe, her intention to poke at the shadows, and remembered Selmar’s fear of the woman finding her. Regardless of Elspeth’s success with Vega, she had promised to protect the girl from discovery.

“Are you searching for him?” Elspeth asked hastily, stepping forward eagerly. “I can help.”

Madame Vega’s focus was back on Elspeth, and the girl sent a mental nudge for Selmar and Dameon to move around the corner of the building, very quietly.

The blonde woman studied Elspeth, her lips little more than a flat line. “What are you proposing?” she asked.

Elspeth made herself smile, because in reality she felt like panicking. Alad was waiting for her - for them, now - and if she didn’t clear their paths soon, she might lose her opportunity to free the wolves tonight, which would mean they’d have to try this again tomorrow - and the longer she left them, the longer she risked Selmar being…well.

She couldn’t think on it.

Rushton and his people might also harbour some sense of resentment, or suspicion, if she let them down tonight, and while she doubted they would hold a grudge, it would take time to build that trust back up again.

Time she didn’t have.

Meeting Vega’s steady gaze, Elspeth lifted a hand to her temple and tapped it. “Can we…talk?”

Madame Vega made a too-swift assessment of the courtyard and nodded, reaching for Elspeth’s hand even as she sent an enthralling probe to the girl’s mind, to activate the link.

Elspeth had to let down her frontal shield to let the woman in; she had offered. She couldn’t back out. But the Enthraller’s probe was curious and cool, driven by a deep-seated concern for Ariel’s whereabouts. Beyond that concern was a ‘why’, and Elspeth caught the trace of a memory - no, a promise.

_A slight, prim young woman with short, blonde curls holds a baby out to her; tears thick in her eyes. “Help him.”_

_“I will.”_

Vega knew Ariel’s mother.

While the woman unwittingly leaked tidbits of information at Elspeth, Vega tried in vain to prod at Elspeth’s secondary shield, to check what else the girl knew about Ariel, and Elspeth pretended to not notice. Vega had spent time honing her ability, but her primary shield was frayed at the edges.

The woman was carrying unspeakable amounts of guilt. 

“ _Come with me_ ,” Vega spoke, her mind voice fuzzy, tenuous, too distracted to maintain a clear connection.

Elspeth let her reflexive enthralling roll off her, because she didn’t need to be convinced to go. She let the woman believe her satisfaction was a result of the opportunity to find Ariel and fix any possible wrong she had done to him. “ _Thank you. I couldn’t stop thinking about how frightened-_ “

“ _Yes, we are past that,_ ” Vega cut her off hurriedly. “ _Can you sense Ariel? Is he in the house, or on the farms?_ ”

Elspeth winced at the directness, sharp, like a knife. “ _I need to be nearer to him. Is there anywhere quiet where I can sit, and let my mind circle to find him?_ ”

“ _Your bedroom,_ ” Madame Vega returned, droll.

“ _I…didn’t think of that,_ ” Elspeth admitted.

“ _That surprises me,_ ” Vega returned, and Elspeth felt an odd sense of warmth from the woman.

Elspeth couldn’t ignore it. “ _What was that?_ ”

Madame Vega shot her a flat look. “ _Come. You can search the house, then we will move to the farms._ ”

“ _And then?_ ” Elspeth tried, a little affronted by her reluctance. She had thought they were being successfully open with one another.

“ _And then,_ ” Vega externally sighed, slowing them as they drew toward an iron gate. “ _We extend the search._ ”

Elspeth nodded thoughtfully, and Madame Vega led her through the gate and into…

Her eyes widened. The rose garden. The garden she had retreated to so often, to be by herself, in that final precious season before she had left (until she had awkwardly bumped into Maryon, who had thought of the space as her private garden, too).

She clamped her memories behind her secondary shield, where they belonged, but Vega managed to catch something on the surface of her mind. “ _You know this place?_ ” she questioned.

Elspeth had to nod. “ _I have seen it. Something is here._ ”

Vega’s fingers tightened a little around Elspeth’s hand. “ _Is it Ariel? Where?_ ” she glanced around.

Elspeth shook her head sadly. “ _Not Ariel. I don’t know what it is,_ ” because she didn’t, precisely. “ _We can come back here another time,_ ” she suggested.

“ _Of course,_ ” Vega released her, and motioned toward the bench seat. “ _Hurry._ ”

Elspeth nodded, and pointedly nudged Vega’s probe. “ _I will need my mind clear to search for him._ ”

With a little huff, Vega crossed her arms but withdrew contact.

And Elspeth inwardly sighed with utter relief. It had been a _bad_ idea to let Madame Vega into even the forefront of her mind necessary for one-to-one communication. Very bad. She’d nearly let a lot of information slip. She would have to remember to conduct future conversations from the woman’s frontal lobe instead of her own.

Elspeth said aloud, quietly, as she lowered herself to the bench. “Why don’t you sit, too? It might take some time.”

She didn’t wait for the woman to respond, closing her eyes as she sent an urgent farseeking probe to locate Selmar and Dameon.

They were already in the Greenthorn maze.

“ _Are you okay?_ ” she asked in a rush.

“ _Meep, a spirit!_ ” Selmar squeaked.

Elspeth backtracked and settled against Dameon’s mind. “ _Are you okay?_ ”

“ _Fine. We’re fine. What happened to you?_ ” Dameon returned swiftly, his mind a mess of concern and guilt. On the edges, she ‘heard’ him delivering soothing words to Selmar, because the girl was still refusing to let him Empathise her calm.

“ _I’m fine._ ”

Dameon thought something relatively wordless that amounted to ironic relief. “ _Why did you do what you did? That was - reckless-_ ”

“ _Why do you think?_ ” Elspeth interjected, suppressing the urge to argue with - well, argue with Dameon. This was new. Or just a really long time coming. “ _So, if you’re both okay, I’ll be getting on with my search._ ”

“ _This is getting too dangerous,_ ” Dameon insisted. “ _That woman is hiding something._ ”

“ _Thank you for that understatement,_ ” Elspeth shoved her frustration in how the night had gone away, so Dameon wouldn’t be effected by it - and because something had already ruffled his feathers, which was a feat unto itself. Possibly Selmar.

“ _I’m fine,_ ” Elspeth repeated more calmly. “ _Vega needs me, so she’s not going to hurt me._ ”

“ _Yet._ ”

“ _Mm, I’m hopeful it won’t come to that,_ ” Elspeth retreated. “ _Just - trust me. I can do this._ ”

Dameon reached for her, his emotion-laced probe full of worry that tied Elspeth’s stomach in knots. “ _I trust you._ ”

She slid away before either of them could make the moment any weirder, and Elspeth opened her eyes, shaking her head at the stiffly-positioned blonde woman by her side. “He’s not lost in the maze.”

Madame Vega’s eyebrows straightened and she shot Elspeth a look. “Why ever would you think he was in the maze?”

Elspeth shrugged. “It’s…a maze,” she offered, unable to keep her brows uncrossed. “It’s shape confuses people by design, and that’s before they contend with the greenthorn. It was reasonable to assumed he might have become lost in it.”

Madame Vega’s agitation peaked, though Elspeth had the distinct impression it wasn’t aimed at her, only being fed by her. The woman shook her head swiftly, glancing out to search the overgrown brambles tangled in the garden before them with daggers for eyes. “He is not in the maze. Try the house.”

“Okay.”

Ignoring the woman’s suggestion she sent out another probe, flying high over the maze to the far side.

“ _Alad!_ ” she skidded into the beastspeaker’s mind, relieved to find him where he’d promised to be (over half an hour ago).

“ _Where are you?_ ” Alad accepted her farseeking without incident. “ _Roland is convinced this is a trap._ ”

On the outside of his mind, she heard him saying “I’m talking to her now.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “ _Madame Vega happened. But my Empath is on his way to you now with Selmar._ ”

“ _Selmar!_ ” he repeated, aghast. “ _Where did you find her?! Is she all right?_ ”

“ _She found me, she’s - she’s okay. Though she’s very frightened of being caught,_ ” Elspeth explained quickly. “ _What’s happened to her?_ ” she added, exasperated.

“ _She’s been missing this past week,_ ” Alad explained regretfully. “ _We’ve been looking everywhere for her._ ”

“ _Alexi,_ ” Elspeth cursed. “ _My timing is out. He must have had her in the caves all that time, trying to decode the diaries._ ”

“ _He did what where?_ ” Alad’s mind voice was stilted.

“ _No time,_ ” Elspeth rushed, apologetic. “ _The plan is still on. Dameon and Selmar will meet you soon._ ”

“ _What if it doesn’t work?_ ” Alad asked urgently, making a similar grab for her probe that Dameon had moments ago. “ _What if they can’t be healed?_ ”

“ _Please, keep trying,_ ” Elspeth implored gently. “ _Do not give up on them,_ ” she choked down a rush of uncertainty, and raced to come up with a plan B. “ _If they cannot be cured, then have Roland put them in a sleeping state, until we can figure out how to help them._ ”

“ _All right, that’s a good idea. Best of luck, Elf._ ”

“ _Thanks, you too, Alad. I’ll be in touch when I can._ ”

—

Elspeth took her time searching the main house, brushing over the sleeping minds and cataloguing exactly who was already at Obernewtyn. She brushed past Jes, delighted to find that he shared a room with Fian. Matthew occupied the room next door (sharing with Dameon, but obviously the Empath wasn’t in his bed). Her heart did a little leap of joy as she located Miky and Angina, young enough that they had been granted sibling rights and shared a room; even in sleep, their hope was so strong and their connection to one another, stronger. She would not let anybody take that from them.

She noted names of the old and dear, acquaintances and friends she had left behind, but most of them didn’t know her, yet.

And she found no sign of Ariel.

“He’s not in the house.”

Vega let out an impatient sigh. “He must be on the farms.”

Or in the cave network, Elspeth didn’t say out loud, opting to nod instead. She sent her mind up, up and over one of the high walls, soaring across the rocky expanses and dense heather that separated the house yard from the farmland. The sweeping arcs were soothing, brushing against sleeping animals housed in the various barns, and small nighttime creatures, skittering with alarm when she made fleeting contact.

Her spirals grew wider and wider. She found Louis Larkin’s cabin and several of Rushton’s allies within (including the grumpy old man himself). Twisting further and extending the arc, Elspeth brushed against the minds of Alad, Roland, Dameon and Selmar. They were on their way.

She swept further out, touching the boundary of the estate’s water supply; an artificial dam fed by a mountain spring.

It was on the other side of the dam that she found him, and her heart skittered to a halt when she realised why she was picking up several other mind signatures with him.

 _Crap_ , was her first thought, and she slungshot back to locate Alad.

“ _Go back!_ ” she slammed into his mind. “ _Ariel’s with his wolves!_ ”

She felt the young man stumble and grip his head, uttering a string of colourful curses.

“ _Sorry!_ ” Elspeth winced, registering that all three of his companions were asking him what was wrong, and Roland was physically supporting him so he wouldn’t fall.

“It’s Elspeth,” he told them hurriedly, the words arriving as a dim, wavering echo, as though through water. His mind voice was clearer. “ _Are you certain?_ ”

“ _Yes I’m certain!_ ” Elspeth defended swiftly. “ _Vega has me searching for him! He’s with his wolves, on the other side of the dam._ ”

“ _That’s where their cages are,_ ” he was hesitant, and a bit annoyed she had slammed through his shield.

“ _Okay, but Vega will want to come and get him - you have to get the others back to Larkin’s cabin until it’s safe to return._ ”

“ _How do you know about -?_ “

“ _That doesn’t matter right now!_ ” Elspeth insisted.

“ _We’ll…have to abort,_ ” he acknowledged.

“ _Okay,_ ” Elspeth cringed, sensing a whisper of distrust. “ _I’m sorry._ ”

“ _Don’t be,_ ” he assured, though couldn’t hide his disappointment. _“It’s not your fault. We’ll try again tomorrow night._ ”

Elspeth regretfully drew back from the beastspeaker and opened her eyes, turning to face Madame Vega. “I’ve found him.”

“Where?”

“There’s a reservoir, on the far side of the farm. Ariel’s there,” she told the woman quietly. How had everything gone so spectacularly wrong tonight?

“I checked there earlier today,” Madame Vega stood, eyes trained on the far eastern ranges, nothing but dark shadows against the night’s sky.

“Maybe he was somewhere else when you checked,” Elspeth pointed out.

Madame Vega’s lips thinned, and she returned to Elspeth with a short nod. “You should return to your bed.”

“What if he moves somewhere else by the time you get there?” Elspeth hazarded.

Madame Vega let out a little sound of frustration and crossed her arms. “I see your point. You had better come with me. But,” she pointed a slim, delicate finger at Elspeth, a warning in her sharp, blue eyes, “you must tell nobody of this little…excursion. Do you understand?”

Elspeth held out her hands. “Why would I tell anybody?” she asked in a confused tone. “I just want to make sure he’s okay and move on with my life.”

“Quite,” Madame Vega brushed off, striding toward the maze and holding her cape tighter around her neck.

Even as a teenager, Elspeth’s legs were relatively long, so she had no trouble in keeping up with Madame Vega as the woman directed them through the maze at a brusque pace.

Once they were through, Elspeth hovered up to check on the others progress, but found herself hesitant to speak to them again, mostly because she had sort of…unwittingly misled them, and wanted to give them some space.

Vega didn’t talk to Elspeth at all while they traipsed across the orchards and vegetable patches, and then across the empty meadows where the cows, sheep, goats and alpacas liked to graze by day.

Once they reached the dam wall, Vega hesitated to ask Elspeth quietly, “Is he still here?”

She sent out a swift probe to locate, and nodded grimly. “He’s fallen asleep. He’s with…are there wolves kept on the grounds?” Elspeth asked lightly. She wasn’t supposed to know about them.

Madame Vega declined to answer. “Wait here. Do not wake the boy, or do anything to alert Ariel to your presence.”

“Understood,” Elspeth sighed.

And she waited, watching as Madame Vega crossed the dam wall and disappeared into the shadows of trees and rocks on the other side.

Elspeth sat, stretching her legs out before her, keeping a probe on Vega’s progress. As she drew nearer, she felt the woman extend a very sudden, smooth Enthralling probe.

Vega’s questing ability ignored the sleeping boy, and instead crashed, without warning, into the occupants of the cages beyond him.

“ _Keep quiet,_ ” Vega commanded the three wolves.

She was not a beastspeaker, but the wolves had no will to resist; their instincts suppressed to the brink of obedience, and underneath, a vague lack of self-awareness that might have been a kind of madness.

Elspeth left Vega and reached out to the nearest wolf. She considered him, without making contact, wondering if there was anything she could do tonight for them. To release them would be a cruelty; without healing, they would panic and very likely leave a quite gruesome mess in their wake before they died, unable to look after themselves.

Noting Vega had crouched beside the boy and was rousing him, Elspeth shrugged and slipped into the enthralled-docile mind of the he-wolf.

There was nothing to greet or ask permission from; the forefront of his mind was a void of screeches, not dissimilar to the strangeness Elspeth had encountered in Lidge’s mind those years ago in Redland Bay.

She grimaced and withdrew. The kindest thing would be to put them into a deep sleep and have Rushton’s allies spirit them away, somewhere Ariel couldn’t find them, so they could be slowly, patiently healed. This was not something anyone would be able to fix overnight.

So with regret, Elspeth resorted to her plan B, tweaking the three wolves minds and locking them in a coercive coma.

Once finished, she haltingly contacted Alad.

“ _They’re asleep,_ ” Elspeth told him, dispensing with the pleasantries. She was disappointed, with herself mostly, and she let him feel her remorse.

Alad misinterpreted her grief as something else. “ _You…you didn’t…did you? Can you…even do that?_ ”

“ _You think I killed them?!_ ” the haze thinned; Elspeth’s probe stilled, aghast. “ _I put them into a coma!_ ”

“ _Sorry,_ ” the mental wince returned. “ _You’re just - really upset,_ ” Alad offered. “ _I thought it meant you had to-_ “

“ _It’s okay,_ ” Elspeth brushed, fighting back a wave of tears, because really - Alad had only misunderstood. He didn’t truly think-

Elspeth shook her head at herself. It didn’t matter now, there was work to be done. These were her friends. “ _You’ll need at least six people to transport them. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to approach._ ”

“ _Elf, wait-_ “

“ _Standby for my signal. I have to go,_ ” she retreated, opening her eyes.

It would have been a very simple thing for her to wallow. She had felt Alad’s hesitance, his concern for her safety, then his quiet shock, and had fully understood that for a heartbeat, he believed she had been capable of ending the wolves lives.

The Elspeth of the past would have used the exchange to build a wall; one separating her from the warmth and friendship that was on offer if she was only brave enough to accept it.

So she didn’t wallow, nor did she blame Alad for his assumption. He knew the wolves were gravely injured. In some cases, perhaps it was a kindness to end a life, rather than prolong suffering. But this was not one of those cases; the wolves could be saved, if they got the right type of healing.

And right now, her mind needed to be on the two humans before her, who in a sense, also needed healing.

She could just see the dimly-moonlit form of Madame Vega leading Ariel across the dam wall.

Ariel was rubbing his eyes, and seemed so small and young in that moment that Elspeth experienced a moment crisis. How had this child done _that_ to the wolves? _How_? How had he come to believe that pushing his emotions on _anybody_ was okay?

Ariel either sensed or saw Elspeth as she stood, and the boy ground to a halt.

“Hi!” unable to help herself, Elspeth called across the space separating them and raised a hand.

Ariel’s focus snapped to Madame Vega; his gaze swiftly turned accusing.

“Why is she here?”

With a resolute push, Madame Vega encouraged Ariel to continue walking toward Elspeth’s side of the reservoir. “You should be thanking Elspeth, she helped me to find you. You could have died out here in the cold, what were you thinking?”

Ariel made a petulant, scoffing sort of sound, but said nothing.

Elspeth made sure to plaster a relieved smile on her face as Madame Vega drew to a halt before her, with Ariel tucked under one arm (and a firm hand on his shoulder).

“Sorry about this morning,” Elspeth wrinkled her nose in Ariel’s direction. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you all right?”

Ariel seemed baffled, and looked once again to Madame Vega for explanation, or permission, or something.

Vega’s eyes narrowed very slightly. “Ariel, Elspeth is the girl I told you about. She’s been a great help to me already, and it would please me if the two of you became friends.” 

Elspeth bit her lips and closed her eyes, nodding swiftly and grateful that the moon was to her back. “I would like that, if you were willing.”

“But she’s a-“ Ariel cut himself off, gaze flickering nervously between the pair, awash with sleep and panic.

“As are you and I,” Vega reminded him curtly. “Come now. Back to the house with both of you, before you catch your deaths.”

Ariel looked bemused, but the moment they started walking, his expression clenched.

“How can you trust her!” Ariel burst, the infliction turning it into a bit of a whine. “She just got here, she knows nothing!”

Elspeth, recovered somewhat from the ‘friends’ comment, stepped forward. “I can answer that,” she explained smoothly, fixing the shorter boy with a smile and knowing eyes. “I have seen the future,” she told him quietly, ever aware of Vega’s speculative, penetrating gaze above them. “It’s part of my talent, if you will. So, I’m here because I know how to help you.”

Ariel’s widened eyes suddenly narrowed. “Don’t assume to know me, freak-“

“You will watch your tongue,” Madame Vega cut in smoothly. “And you will listen,” she added thoughtfully. “Go on, Elspeth.”

She nodded her thanks and turned her gaze to the path they were treading, drawing ever closer to the empty meadows as they retraced their steps.

She chose her words carefully. “Look. I don’t know everything. I don’t know why you’re looking for what you’re looking for. To be honest, I don’t really care,” because, Elspeth reasoned, that wasn’t what this conversation was about. “But I know what’s happened to you,” she admitted quietly. “And - I know why you tried to push your emotions onto me this morning,” she told Ariel directly. “But I’d appreciate if you didn’t try that again.”

Madame Vega’s head turned slowly, and she just looked at Ariel, her face blank, and waiting.

Ariel’s shifty blue-eyed gaze flickered from Vega, to the path before them. “I didn’t know…what you were.”

“That is beside the point,” Elspeth replied with some gentleness. “It’s really not healthy to stop feeling emotions. You’ll deprive your body of essential hormones which will stunt your entire endocrine system and as a result, your development. You won’t know until it’s too late to repair,” she drew on some of the knowledge she had gained from the various Ted Talks and Pixar movies Sentinel had requested she watch during her own emotional reawakening. “You are too young to be messing with your system like that.”

Ariel’s teeth grit together, his eyes closed - but he said nothing.

This surprised Elspeth. When she checked Madame Vega quickly - the woman gave nothing away, her eyes on the path.

The opportune moment to signal the others. In a flash, Elspeth sent her mind to the group of misfits in Larkin’s hut. There was no time for Guildmerge, so she simply sent the word GO into their heads, and slung her probe back to herself before Vega or Ariel could notice she had left.

They were still captured in thought, so she decided she would continue her lecture. Why not? Someone had to fill the awkward silence. “Of course, too much of any emotion is bad for you too, but I would argue apathy poses a greater risk, as emotions might be processed and worked through. Sadness, for example, exists for a very good reason, not only from a bodily perspective but a societal; it helps to show others that you need support. Not everybody is a mind reader,” Elspeth smirked, “and even those who are shouldn’t be reading you unless you ask them to. But an absence of emotion turns you…” Elspeth grimaced. This was getting too close to home, and she sighed, deciding to use it anyway. “For a long time after my parents died, I didn’t feel much. And I missed out on…warning signs all around me, and a lot of people got hurt. Without those emotions to ground me,” she told them, told herself, “I just…drifted and expected others to show me my way.”

Ariel looked up at this, and shot Madame Vega a pleading look. “Okay, I won’t run off again, just make her stop talking.”

Madame Vega sent the boy a pinched smile. “Oh, I don’t know Ariel. I’m finding this all very fascinating. How old are you again, dear?”

The last was directed at Elspeth. “Fourteen,” she managed through a guilty nod. “But I’ll be fifteen, come the end of Summer.”

“A crucial detail,” Vega murmured with some amusement. “I am interested, Elspeth, in how you arrived at your conclusions. Did you read about this in a book?”

Elspeth faltered, then decided yes, in a way, videos were a sort of book. She nodded.

“A forbidden book?”

“It’s no wonder your parents were Burnt,” Ariel growled.

“This was after my parents,” she confirmed, ignoring Ariel’s attempt at wounding her, because it was clear he simply wanted a reaction out of her. “I wanted to know why I couldn’t…cry,” she simplified it for them. She was supposed to only be fourteen, after all. 

“And you resolved this…deficiency, with knowledge?”

“And time,” Elspeth added reasonably. “Patience. Practise. Good nutrition. Self-care. Fairly standard sort of things.”

Madame Vega flashed Ariel a superior, knowing look, as though Elspeth had just supported some claim, but added nothing more to the conversation.

Ariel continued glowering at the darkened path, ever defiant.

She had a feeling she was going too far, but when you know you can defend - pretty much any attack someone throws at you - you tend to throw caution to the wind. “So, what do you say, little brother? Can we be friends?”

Ariel winced, then his nose wrinkled in sneer as he glanced Elspeth’s way. “How are you still alive-?”

“Ariel,” Vega admonished evenly.

“It’s okay,” Elspeth reasoned with a small smile of understanding. She wondered if Alexi had been the last person he had trusted. “It’s wise to be cautious. A truce, then,” she offered, slowing to a stop as their group reached a stile between fields.

Ariel shot Madame Vega a pleading look, which the woman promptly ignored.

“Fine,” Ariel spat, his fury plain and his eyes shifty. “I won’t…do the emotion thing to you again.”

“Great,” Elspeth grinned, pleased as though he had agreed to be her friend already. She climbed over after him, and jumped down the final three steps with glee. “In return for your…restraint, I can teach you something, if you’re willing.”

Ariel scoffed, but Madame Vega glanced to Elspeth with interest.

“Teach?” she murmured.

Elspeth nodded easily. “There’s a method of compartmentalisation I use which enables me to file emotions to be dealt with later. If left for too long it can - well, compound its strength - but so long as I make myself feel them within a day or two,” Elspeth shrugged. “It works for me. If you let yourself feel them from within a serene state, your body still gets what it needs but you don’t experience the stress response at all. You just…accept the emotion as yours, acknowledge it, and move on,” she shrugged. “It means I don’t have to work through the feeling in the moment if I’m really busy, which as we know,” Elspeth waved her hand toward Ariel, “you struggle with.”

“I don’t struggle-“

“You push your emotions onto others so you won’t have to feel them,” Elspeth arched an eyebrow at him. “It’s not healthy.”

“You’re not healthy!” Ariel hissed. “It’s a wonder you haven’t been Burnt!”

“Well, that’s just rude!” Elspeth faltered, blinking down at him. “I’m offering to help you - it will make you stronger as a person-”

“I don’t want your help!”

“Nevertheless you will accept Elspeth’s offer,” Madame Vega supplied smoothly. “We could all benefit from such a method, at times,” she sighed.

Elspeth gave the woman an uncertain glance. “You…?”

Madame Vega returned a small, restrained smile. “I am…intrigued by your methods, Elspeth. Would you teach us both?”

Elspeth had to bite her lip to keep her mouth from falling open. Madame Vega had leapt at the chance for Elspeth to teach her something. Perhaps there was an aspect of control involved, but nothing Elspeth had offered to teach Ariel would be able to be used against others. The emotions, once filed behind a net, couldn’t be pushed on another. They had to be felt, at some time, and Elspeth was certain that if Ariel happened to leave his emotions behind a net for too long, he’d only do it once.

“Okay,” Elspeth nodded, recovered. “Maybe we can…start tomorrow?”

“Not for me, I’m afraid,” Vega mused, eyes turned to the orchard they were traipsing through. “You’ll be meeting with Alexi tomorrow, after midmeal. It will have to be the day after that.”

Alexi. She knew she’d have to face him, but she had no idea how the encounter would pan out, or what it would mean for their futures.

Elspeth gave the woman a vague nod, wondering whether there would be any days after tomorrow to look forward to.

“Wonderful,” Vega sighed warmly. “Say thank you, Elspeth,” she prompted.

Ariel cringed. “Thank you, Elspeth,” he mumbled.

“You’re welcome.”


	9. Out of My Mind

Elspeth’s cheek was being battered by a ball of velvet.

“ _What is Innle doing?_ ” Maruman scorned.

Elspeth was so tired that her awareness felt syrupy and it took several long, sluggish seconds to realise where she was.

The tiger form of Maruman sat above her, his dual-diamond eyes glowing and narrowed.

Elspeth tested her jaw and pushed against - rock. She was lying on a bed of hard, cold, black, very uneven rock.

With a groan, she eased up onto her hands, noting she looked just like herself. The old self she had left at Eden. It was a relief to glance up without having bangs crowd her eyes.

“ _Can’t you let me sleep?_ ”

“ _OldOnes angry with ElspethInnle,_ ” Maruman insisted. “ _Innle cannot teach H’rayka! Innle must defeat-_ “

With another groan, Elspeth crossed her legs, arching her back with a wince. “ _If the Agyllians are angry with me, they can tell me themselves._ ”

Maruman growled, baring his teeth. “ _Maruman is angry with Innle. You endanger all and finding the glarsh will-_ ”

“ _Good, I’m glad you’ve brought this up,_ ” Elspeth arched, staring at a black, star-lit sky, resplendent with swirling wisps of colour. “ _Let’s talk about behaviour when it comes to my Quest,_ ” she returned, leaning back on her palms and kicking her legs out to cross her feet. The road underneath her hands was warm, as though it had soaked up the sun.

Maruman’s glare intensified, and Elspeth couldn’t hold her scowl. She glanced down, laughing, and then reached out to stroke the tiger’s face, just once. She couldn’t be mad at him. “ _Come, old friend. We know how the story goes,_ ” she told him. “ _Which means the fates, or the OldOnes, or Cassy, or whoever is in charge of our destiny,_ ” Elspeth lifted her brows, “ _can’t mess with us any more. We don’t have to sit and watch as lives are lost to greed and fear, as our friends are dragged into subjugation, and friendships are pointlessly tossed aside. What was it you said?_ ” she tilted her head; offered him a smile. “ _This is a chance to edit our forever. Stop all bads, the right way, this time. What possible problem could a six-dimensional not-cat have with that?_ ”

Maruman’s ears flattened and he took a step back, hissing. “ _Maruman’s problem is that Innle has decided the best way to do this is to befriend the H’rayka and to give him and his people the tools they require to locate the glarsh._ ”

Elspeth shrugged. “ _Can we agree to call him Ariel?_ ”

“ _Fine, Ariel,_ ” Maruman spat. “ _Why are you trying to save him? He is your enemy for alltime._ ”

Elspeth had to laugh. “ _He’s an empath child!_ ” she uttered. “ _I don’t agree with his coping mechanism, but I’m doing my damnedest to change that. Do you - do_ ** _they_** _\- honestly expect me to turn my back on my humanity and attack a ten year old boy for the sake of what - tradition?_ ”

“ _You know what he will become._ ”

“ _Not if I stop it from happening._ ”

“ _Innle cannot control the will of all people!_ ” Maruman growled. “ _H’rayka will be who he will be!_ ”

“ _Why?!_ ” Elspeth cried, throwing her hands up in frustration. “ _Why must we take this child, who has suffered a tremendous betrayal from the man who should have protected him in this world - and_ ** _lash out_** _more abuse and betrayal by giving up on him, when he’s just afraid of who he is and what his father made him do?! Was Dragon not the same when we found her?_ ” Elspeth implored, lowering her tone, her hands. “ _Look at who she became,_ ” she added. “ _With compassion - with understanding - and with the will to not give up on him - I know I can help him. Wouldn’t that be better, for everybody, if Ariel discovered compassion?_ ”

Maruman had been glaring for so long that his form looked like a statue. “ _Better how?_ ”

“ _The Seeker and Destroyer, on the same side?_ ” Elspeth arched. “ _How is that not better than him chasing me around the world, wreaking destruction?_ ” 

“ _Better for who?_ ” Maruman’s voice was stone-cold. “ _For Ariel? Or for Elspeth?_ ”

“ _Trust me,_ ” she pleaded. “ _Tell the OldOnes they must trust me. I have never felt more certain of my path._ ”

Maruman glared a moment longer, then turned, dissolving into an indigo mist.

“ _I will tell them,_ ” the scattering not-a-cat’s whisper came. “ _But your doings will change more than who lives and who dies._ ”

“ _Good,_ ” Elspeth sighed, glancing to her lap. She was willing to take that gamble; change was not evil, and there was much about the last time she intended to change. Why, if she could convince Obernewtyn to go to Sador, she could collect the keys and commission a ship then and there to take her first to Dragon, and then Redland Bay. Bring an end to the matter of the weapons, before they truly became an issue. Talk to Sentinel; have her send flyers all over the world, to pick up the animals that wished to retreat to Eden and send a delegate to Habitat, to talk some sense into God. She could have it all over and done with before the year ended - before the rebellion for the Land even started to gain traction.

Could it ever be so simple? Probably not, but she had to start somewhere.

The green fabric of the dress that had materialised in this dreamtrail was tightly woven, pilling about the waistband, and she picked at a speck, wondering at the obscure level of detail.

It was a very strange thing, to have such a heightened awareness of what she had to do. It felt like cheating, and Maruman’s warning circled her thoughts like a strobing light.

Would the fates, Agyllians, whoever, throw extra challenges in her way, merely to keep her on her toes?

Surely not. Surely they wanted this to be resolved as much as she did.

She lingered on the black road, watching the spiralling colours as they danced across the skies, and found herself smiling at the auroras. The echo of her plea settled in her mind, arming her with resolve. She had to save Ariel. She was going to save everyone.

Because what was the point in coming back if she was doomed to repeat the same mistakes?

—

Elspeth woke briefly when Rosamunde rose. Feeling bleary, she chatted to the girl about what her plans were (she and Jes were being shown the farms by Matthew; Rosamunde was to meet them for firstmeal), and then gratefully collapsed back into her bed and took advantage of Madame Vega’s command that she remain in the house.

The next time she woke, it was from hunger pains. Groaning, Elspeth splashed water on her face. She cursed as her stupid bangs flopped down, collected as much water as hair could hold, and proceeded to drip into her eyes.

Swooping them back with the cheery yellow headband, Elspeth then worked on making herself presentable for the meeting with Alexi, which she was certain she would be summoned for at any moment.

Once she was ready - and no summons arrived - Elspeth left her room, intent on going to the dining hall for a late firstmeal. Or early midmeal. Elevenmeal?

Elspeth forgot all about what to call the meal when she exited the courtyard and spied Ariel across the way, purposefully slinking in the direction of the maze.

He was alone.

“Ariel!” Elspeth called, lifting her hand in greeting.

Ariel stilled, his head whipping around to fix Elspeth with a narrow-eyed expression. “What do you want?” he sneered.

“Don’t be like that,” Elspeth dismissed, jogging across the courtyard to join him. She didn’t miss how he tensed his hands, or took a step back as she drew to a halt. “I’m bound for the dining hall. Want to join me?”

Ariel’s nose scrunched up in what Elspeth assumed was meant to be a menacing way (it wasn’t).

“They’re not just going to serve you whenever you like, you’re not a guardian. Firstmeal ended hours ago.”

Elspeth shrugged. “I’ll persuade them. I can be very persuasive when I’m hungry.”

Ariel’s eyes widened; he took another step back. “You lecture me on…doing that, and then…do it whenever it suits you?” he scathed.

Elspeth rolled her eyes and laughed as though he had been joking with her. “I’m going to _talk_ to them - not make them give me food in _that_ way. Ye Gods, Ariel, who do you think I am?”

Ariel blinked, straightening his posture, though one delicate blonde eyebrow remained arched. “I wouldn’t know,” he murmured grumpily.

“Exactly,” Elspeth returned the eyebrow arch. “So, come and have a cup of tea with me. Madame Vega wants us to be friends,” she added.

To Elspeth’s astonishment, Ariel agreed.

And that was how she found herself in the empty dining hall, sitting across from a mutinous Ariel with a teapot and plate of assorted biscuits between them (convincing Andra to give her tea and food had been easy, once the woman had seen Ariel was with her).

For an awkward moment they just sat there, and Elspeth noted - with some satisfaction - that the child didn’t try to push any of his feelings onto her. He hadn’t tried it all morning, despite wearing his emotions clearly on his sleeve. He was learning - perhaps only that there was no point in trying that on her - but she took it as a win.

Clearing her throat, Elspeth sat straighter and poured them both a cup, pushing the porcelain across the table toward the small boy. He accepted it wordlessly and stared at the steaming liquid.

She had a difficult time believing he was ten, for his limbs didn’t have that puppy-like gangliness that other ten-year-old boys seemed to embody. He was small and delicate and vulnerable.

Anger flared in the depths of Elspeth’s mind, and she wondered how she was supposed to remain objective when she visited Alexi later. Ariel’s future choices might have made him the Destroyer, but Alexi was responsible for the Ariel of today.

“I meant what I said last night,” she started quietly, because someone had to break the silence.

Ariel looked up and huffed. “Right.”

“I did,” Elspeth insisted, sitting back and lifting the cup to her lips. She blew across the top gently, and took a thoughtful sip, wondering how to broach this - gaping chasm between Ariel and literally everybody else. “I’m going to make Alexi answer for what he did to you.”

Ariel was either getting used to Elspeth knowing too much about him, or didn’t believe her; his expression curled into a dark smirk. “You’re no match for him,” Ariel lowered his tone, leaning forward. “He’ll get what he wants from you, and he’ll make you scream while he collects his precious data.”

It was disturbing to hear such things from the mouth of a child. Elspeth stared at him distastefully for a moment, then smiled.

“Try the biscuits,” she offered with false brightness.

Ariel’s gaze flickered to the plate, then back to Elspeth. He shook his head, eyes narrowing. “You’re afraid, I can feel it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid,” Elspeth took a biscuit for herself, and chomped into it - regretting doing so instantly. The biscuit was as hard as a rock. “Ow - what are these?!”

“You’re supposed to dunk them,” Ariel pointed out.

“I doubt tea can save them,” Elspeth shook the discomfort off with a shudder, replacing the weapons-grade disc on her saucer and taking up another type that looked softer on the gums. “Where were we?”

“Alexi.”

“Right,” Elspeth sat up, waving her hand dismissively. “The screaming and the data,” she reminded herself, and shrugged again. “It won’t come to that.”

“You’re so certain?” Ariel sneered.

Elspeth nodded slowly, lifting her eyebrows. “I know what he wants already.”

“Sure you do.”

“Remember?” Elspeth whispered, leaning forward. “It’s part of my talent.”

Ariel’s narrowed gaze seemed less certain than before. “And you’re just going to give it to him.”

Elspeth tilted her head a little. “Yes and no.”

“It won’t work,” Ariel dismissed. “He doesn’t do no. It needs to be yes and yes, or he will hook you up to the machine and pull the rest from you by force.”

Elspeth met his gaze. “Because that’s what he did to you? Hooked you up to a machine and tried to squeeze answers out of you?”

Ariel’s expression blanked. “This isn’t about me.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Elspeth glanced away.

“Good, because I’m not offering.”

“That’s fine,” Elspeth supplicated, forcing a smile. “But know that I am here, if you ever want to. So. What would you rather talk about?” she picked up her teacup again and threw him a little shrug. “In the interests of our new friendship, of course.”

Ariel’s scowl was turned down and the boy gave another little huff. After a moment’s silence, he muttered, “Compartmentalisation.”

It took her a moment to figure out what he meant. Her eyes widened when she remembered what she’d offered the night before. “Right! Yes. Of course. Do you want to start now?”

Ariel hazarded a glance upward, his whole face grumpy. “What happens if I use it and don’t…feel them later?”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” Elspeth sat back, widening her eyes. “Anything stored behind the net compounds the longer you leave it.”

“So what is the point of it?” Ariel grumbled. “It’s so much easier to package it and push it away in the moment.”

“Onto someone else, you mean,” Elspeth arched, and shook her head. “Which is not only highly unethical but also deprives your own body of hormones essential to growth-“

“Okay, I don’t need the lecture again,” Ariel cut in.

“But I don’t think you quite understand why it’s so important,” Elspeth risked, pointing at him. “Even if you don’t care about what you’re doing to anyone else, do you _want_ to be this short for the rest of your life?”

Ariel’s glare could have melted ice, had there been any between them. “You’re just saying that to make me do what you want me to do.”

“I’m not just saying anything,” Elspeth defended. “Everything I’m telling you is backed by peer-reviewed science. You don’t let yourself feel - you won’t ever grow up, in _all_ senses of the phrase.”

The boy twitched self-consciously, and sat taller in his chair.

“I could elaborate,” Elspeth motioned toward him serenely. “But you’d probably think I was lecturing you again.”

“Fine,” Ariel mumbled, gritting his teeth as he pointed a small, delicate finger at Elspeth in accusation. “But - if this goes wrong, you’re going to be in trouble.”

Elspeth snorted into her tea; the threat diffused as insolence, and she was unwilling to argue with him. Besides, if this backfired, he’d be the one who was in trouble. “Okay, Ariel. You will be allowed to blame me if it goes wrong.”

“Okay,” Ariel finished uncertainly, flashing Elspeth a sideways glance. “So…let us begin.”

Elspeth smiled at her tea. The OldOnes were going to love this.

—

During the next hour, Elspeth outlined how to create a neural net and then demonstrated it to the boy who had been her nemesis.

Ariel was cautious verging on paranoid of Elspeth’s instructions, though did allow her to communicate her impression of the net directly into the forefront of his mind, so he might more easily duplicate it.

She had to admit that Ariel was a very quick study, though his…brilliance, she was hesitant to call it, had vastly been overshadowed and redirected under Alexi’s brand of guidance.

By the time Madame Vega’s messenger arrived to escort her to the office for her meeting with Alexi, Ariel had managed to replicate the net and pushed a bubble of his readily-available frustration behind it.

“Good,” Elspeth encouraged as she rose to go with the messenger. She stared at the newcomer, startling as she recognised a young Domick, complete with a scruffy mop of dark hair and arms and legs just starting to look lean and muscled, as though they fit his height.

“Oh…just a moment,” suppressing her surprise with a slow-blink, she focussed on her student.

“Tonight once you’ve gone to bed, I want you to steady your breathing, then when you feel calm, dismantle the net and let that frustration out. Scream it into your pillow if you feel the need to react,” she waved. “It shouldn’t be too strong by then.”

“I don’t understand why I have to feel it at all,” Ariel grumbled, shooting Domick a warning glare.

The older boy seemed to develop a sudden interest in a speck of nothing on the wall, but it was obvious that he was interested - and very curious about what they were up to.

“Don’t regret your emotions, you’ll just create more,” Elspeth pointed out gently. “That frustration is yours, something you created. You’re allowed to feel it, and the benefits are-”

“Please, stop,” Ariel buried his head in his hands. “You’ve already given this lecture. Several times.”

“Nobody’s going to blame you for feeling them,” she continued with a small laugh, because that Ariel said ‘please’ and felt exasperation, not complete loathing for her, was incredible. She flashed Domick a welcoming smile and grabbed a handful of the softer biscuits from the plate. “Sorry about the delay. I’m Elspeth.”

“I know,” the corner of the coercer’s mouth twitched, and he hazarded another glance in Ariel’s direction. “Erm. This way?”

“Sure,” she smiled easily and held out her offering. “Biscuit?”

His lips straightened into a line, as though trying to figure out if this was a trap, before he reached out and accepted one. “Thanks.”

Elspeth dutifully followed the young man, waving briefly to the irritated ten-year-old. Domick directed her back into the main house and through the corridors, and Elspeth didn’t need to pay attention to where they were going. She knew the halls like the back of her hand. The walk did give Elspeth time to think, though.

Munching on a biscuit, Maruman’s words from the previous night came back to her. He - or the Agyllians - were angry at her for trying to help Ariel, and she honestly couldn’t understand why, even after accounting for the man he had grown into in her ‘previous life’. If placed in the wrong hands, might Dragon have turned out just as toxic?

The young man walking before her was further testament to her stance; when placed in the wrong environment, forced to fight their nature, any of them could turn sour and be manipulated into something bad.

She wasn’t going to let that happen this time, to anyone.

Domick had said nothing to her since they had left the building (though the biscuit had disappeared in all of three seconds), so Elspeth took the initiative, increasing her pace so she walked beside him.

He threw her another sideways glance - naturally wary. “Do you need something?”

Elspeth’s smile grew apologetic. “Did you get the wolves to safety? Is Alad annoyed with me?”

Domick’s eyes widened in horror.

“No point in asking about Roland, he’s always annoyed at everybody-“

“Shut up!” the coercer’s brows crossed over panicked brown eyes, and he did a quick search of the hallway. “You can’t talk about that here.”

“Why?” Elspeth screwed her nose up. “The walls don’t have ears. Both you and I would be able to sense if anyone approached.”

“That’s beside the point,” Domick hissed, and with another flustered glance around, stopped and squared Elspeth with a narrowed expression. “How do you know so much about us?”

She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t Alad explain anything? We’ve already been through this.”

Domick’s scowl persisted. “He said you’re like Maryon.”

“Nobody is like Maryon,” Elspeth rolled her eyes, stepping back to lean against the hall. She patted the spot beside her. “Come on. Ask me anything.”

The coercer shook his head, though the panic seemed to fade, transforming into something closer to simple annoyance. “You’re expected. Can’t keep ‘the Master’ waiting.”

“He’s nobody’s master,” Elspeth couldn’t suppress her snort. “What’s he going to do if we’re a few minutes late?”

Domick’s eyebrow arched. “You do know what he’s doing to Selmar, right?”

Elspeth sobered, growing sympathetic. She couldn’t be afraid of Alexi or Vega, or any of them, knowing what she knew about the future, and what she could do to stop them. But the fear of discovery and…what amounted to torture, for her friends, was very real.

“I’m sorry,” Elspeth shook her head, her eyes turned down in thought. “I just wanted to make sure you got the wolves out. And, I wanted a chance to explain.”

With a wry tilt to his lip, as though he still didn’t exactly approve of this, Domick joined her, leaning against the wall, propping a foot against it as he crossed his arms. “Dameon explained what happened.”

Elspeth fixed Domick with a look. “Dameon doesn’t know everything.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Domick tilted his head back then side to side, working some cricks out of his neck. “I think he ‘sees’ a lot more than anyone gives him credit for. His talent has clear benefits. Rushton was particularly interested with what he can offer our people, and Dameon was more than willing to assist. And he’s not trying to help that demon, Ariel,” Domick turned back to Elspeth, adding quietly. “Why should we trust you? Just whose side are you on?”

“There aren’t really ‘sides’,” she nodded, accepting how her levity must appear to the others. At best, they would think she was a fool. “I’m not going to betray you.”

“You don’t know what you’ll tell Alexi if he straps you to that machine.”

“It’s not going to come to that this time,” Elspeth insisted quietly.

“Selmar used to think like you,” Domick pressed steadily. “She saw reason and goodness in everybody.”

“Yes, but it’s not as black and white as good and bad,” Elspeth shuddered. “And I can see how Alexi influences this place, and everybody who lives here.”

“Which is why he must be removed,” Domick pointed out.

“I agree. Rushton needs to take his place as Master of Obernewtyn as soon as possible,” Elspeth sighed. “And Alexi needs to answer for his crimes.”

“To who?” Domick scoffed. “The Council don’t care.”

“They might,” Elspeth considered. “Rushton has his Normalcy certificate, and so long as we can prove he’s descended from Michael, the ownership of Obernewtyn is a mere paper trail away from being realised,” she mused, ignoring Domick’s incoherent spluttering. “And you didn’t see how Madame Vega operated in Sutrium,” Elspeth continued. “She knows how the system works, and is actually very smart. If she would testify against Alexi-“

Domick spluttered out a curse. “She’s just as bad as him, if not worse-!“

“I’m not convinced that’s true,” Elspeth murmured. “She’s like us,” she hazarded. “She’s just…motivated by something else, or someone,” she was hesitant to drop the Druid into this mess, until she had proof that Vega was carrying out his orders. “She’s not necessarily a victim here, but…” Elspeth shook her head, frustrated at how difficult it was to get her point across. “There’s more to her story. If we can get her on side, she will be an asset to Rushton’s cause.”

Domick groaned and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “You can’t be serious. You’ll doom us all if you trust her.”

“I’m not going to let any of them hurt you,” Elspeth pushed off the wall, fixing Domick with a stoic look. “If Vega cannot be reasoned with…I will accept responsibility for her and…manage her.”

It wouldn’t come to that, she assured herself.

But what if it did?

Domick eyed Elspeth up and down. “You don’t lack confidence, I’ll give you that. I want to believe you, Elspeth, but-“

“Elf,” she offered, explaining when he grew confused. “Call me Elf?”

“Elf, fine,” he blinked, moving from the wall to continue their walk to the office. “Even together, we are under immediate threat of exposure from two influential adults and a system that supports the oppression and Burning of our people. You can’t just - crash through all of our plans like a whirlwind storm and expect it to end well for anyone-”

“I understand,” Elspeth murmured, rounding the corner to the final approach, the hall roof hazy with the green fog of the candles. “Change, like trust, takes time. But - I’ve only been here two days,” she glanced to him, “and look at what has been achieved? Selmar is returned, Ariel is questioning his methods, and the wolves have been liberated, even if there are months of healing ahead of them. Can you give me another day to prove I’m on your side?”

The corner of Domick’s mouth quirked. “Selmar isn’t safe. They could summon her again -“

“And you and yours will ignore any such summons,” Elspeth pointed a stern finger at him. “You will keep that girl safe and out of sight until this is over. We will spread a rumour that she has run away,” because last time, she _had_ tried to flee. Elspeth’s stomach twisted with nausea at the memory. “Hide her with coercion, if you must. There are enough of you to manage it,” she berated.

Domick held up both of his hands, surprise gracing his features. His sudden bemusement would have been funny if Elspeth hadn’t grown a little frustrated by his pessimism. If half of Rushton’s people were like him, it was no wonder they hadn’t acted until Elspeth had (effectively) blown up the Zebkrahn.

They walked in silence from then, as they were drawing too near to Vega’s office to continue along these lines, even mind to mind, given Vega’s abilities.

Ruffled, Elspeth tried to empty her mind of frustration. Rushton’s people were waiting for the right moment to stage their coop, because there was no guarantee that winning would secure their freedom.

They didn’t have Elspeth’s hindsight - didn’t realise how truly wonderful they would make Obernewtyn - and she understood that without the Zebkrahn explosion, she would need to find some other way to instigate the change.


	10. Villains

Domick gave Elspeth a gruff ’see you later’ when he left her at Vega’s door, and she watched him, musing over the topic of trust, and how she had taken it for granted.

It was possibly the fault of her emotional block, but it was still curious to acknowledge how closely twined trust and fear were. Last time…she had earned Matthew and Cameo’s trust almost at once, because they were Matthew and Cameo, and Dameon’s not long after…and as for the others…she had earned it after Alexi and Vega had been neutralised, and Ariel had fled, months after she had arrived at Obernewtyn.

No - not then. She had earned their trust via Rushton. He had vouched for her.

This time - well. She was astonishingly on a path to earning Vega and Ariel’s trust, owing to the removal of her fear. She had spent more time with Rushton’s people than Rushton himself, though granted she had only been at Obernewtyn for two days. Trust took time, and Elspeth’s apparent rashness was doubtless hindering her plight.

She turned and knocked with her knuckles this time. Pushing all thought of her friends behind her secondary shield, she turned her attention to the matter at hand: Alexi.

What was she going to do? She had no idea, but not for lack of wondering. Elspeth wanted to go into this meeting without fear, to look for opportunities and truths.

The door was opened by Madame Vega.

“Elspeth,” the woman smiled, a small tuck to her brows the only sign that she harboured some minor frustration, though Elspeth didn’t believe it was directed at her. “You are later than we expected.”

She returned the woman’s smile, hesitant to mention Ariel while Alexi might be in hearing range. “My apologies. I have no excuse.”

“Very well,” Vega stepped back and closed the door behind Elspeth, clicking the lock into place.

Folding her hands behind her back, Elspeth rocked on her heels and took in the expansive room. She instantly sighted the tall, thin blonde man seated at Vega’s desk, his head rising and ice-blue eyes locking onto her as she feigned interest in everything but him. Elspeth let her gaze wander, eyes brightening as she sighted the outside world, visible today beyond the enormous window.

A row of pines bordered distant, purpled mountains capped with pristine white, and above that, the flawless blue sky. It was so…so Obernewtyn. Elspeth’s breath left her in a huff.

“Breathtaking,” she allowed, glancing to Vega with an appreciative smile. “There is such beauty here.”

Vega sent her a distracted smile, but her answer came from the man across the room.

“Beauty is the ultimate deception,” Alexi addressed, his voice carrying the slight inflictions of a midlander, coupled with the annoyance of one who did not like small talk.

Elspeth was rueful that she couldn’t ignore him for longer. Her smile dropped and she met his gaze, and held it. “It doesn’t have to be,” she returned, stoic.

“Elspeth, this is Alexi Seraphim, Master of Obernewtyn,” Madame Vega stepped forward, her voice almost bored, almost sighing through the schooled decorum.

“Hello,” Elspeth returned, dipping her head slightly and feigning a smile, unwilling to take her eyes off him. It sounded so wrong to couple his name with Rushton’s; there was nothing Seraphim about this man. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Alexi inclined his head slightly, but the only purpose it seemed to serve was to turn his gaze into a glare. “As have I you.”

Elspeth took the seat Madame Vega indicated, and folded her hands in her lap, glancing pointedly from the man, to the pile of books in front of him. “Are these Marisa Seraphim’s diaries, then?” 

Alexi’s mouth quirked at one corner; his eyes flashed with zeal. “I would like to better understand how you came to know about the diaries of my dear grandmama.”

“What do you already know?” Elspeth countered, pausing to add; “I wouldn’t want to waste your time by repeating something you have already heard.”

Alexi’s nose crinkled into a sneer, but beside her, Madame Vega muffled a laugh by turning it into a small, delicate cough.

When he glanced to her, eyes accusing, Madame Vega tilted her head knowingly. “I told you, she is direct. Elspeth,” Madame Vega continued, her eyes still on Alexi, “I have advised Master Seraphim of your…most astonishing ability to dream of the future. I have also advised him of your willingness to come forward with the truth of your talents, and your enthusiasm to assist us with our research.”

Alexi’s ice-cold gaze drifted back to Elspeth. “Yes. Tell me about the dream you had that told you about our work.”

Elspeth blinked in confusion. “But - that is past. I am here now.”

“Perhaps ask Elspeth to use her talents on one of the diaries,” Vega suggested. “Her success will validate her claims.”

Alexi opened his mouth, pointing a finger at Vega, hesitating as his tongue caught up to his anger, or anxiety, or whatever it was driving this man. Elspeth couldn’t put her finger on it. “I am the director of this interview!”

Elspeth inclined her head, suppressing the sickly, angry feeling swirling in her stomach. How had Vega come to tolerate this sneering man? Her theory that Vega was operating under someone else’s orders grew in probability, as did her desire to disentangle both Vega and Ariel from his snare.

“I can do both,” Elspeth held out a hand, fixing Alexi with a flat, emotionless look. “I dreamed of a woman with eyes the colour of honey discovering a secret hidden within the Estate. She found a Beforetime map,” Elspeth continued, building a plausible dream from the snippets of information she knew, more than willing to lie to his face if it would save her friends and end this sooner.

Alexi’s eyes brightened, widening, and he stood, slamming his hands down on the desk’s edge. “Where does the map tell you to go?” he asked.

Elspeth shook her head, reinforcing her still empty, offered hand. “It didn’t. I didn’t see the map, I mean,” she rolled her eyes. “And it was…corrupted,” she wrinkled her nose. “Marisa spent months decoding it,” she nodded toward the books pointedly, “in those.”

Finally, slowly, Alexi took the topmost book, seemingly at war with relinquishing it so easily. “Tell me everything you see.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Elspeth murmured, sighing as the book was placed in her hand. Elspeth made a show of holding it to her chest and closing her eyes.

Not three seconds passed, and Elspeth opened her eyes, offering it back. “The doors,” she drawled. “The map is hidden in the doors.”

Alexi grabbed the book and stared at it, baffled. “Which doors? Blasted woman, why does everything have to be hidden in codes-”

“The main doors to Obernewtyn,” Vega supplied with a shrewd, sideways glance Elspeth’s way. “You noticed the doors when we arrived.”

Elspeth nodded carefully, meeting Vega’s sideways glance. “I did. Now we know why.”

Alexi stood taller and threw the journal back onto the top of the pile. “I know of those doors. They are not a map.”

“No, but they’re a start,” Elspeth pointed out. “Marisa was thinking about hiding the details she could recover in the doors.”

Alexi clenched his fists and let out a noise of frustration. “Why did she insist on hiding it at all?” he burst. “Paranoid old bat.”

So much for dear grandmama. “She understood the danger of the map falling into the wrong hands.”

Alexi did his whole finger-pointing mouth-open trick again, speaking after a moment’s consideration. “Do another one,” he extracted another journal, and passed it Elspeth’s way.

She held the book to her chest and wracked her mind for what else she could possibly tell him to end the questioning. Her eyes drifted closed, and she feigned concentration, crossing her brows after a heartbeat. “She was…thinking about her son. His name was Michael?” Elspeth queried. “She was wondering…oh.”

With a hasty glance and a flush, Elspeth passed the book back to Alexi. “There’s nothing about the map here.”

“What is it, what did you see?” Alexi screeched.

Elspeth sent Madame Vega a worried look. “She was thinking about Michael’s…relations. What it might mean for the estate.”

Madame Vega’s expression remained calm. “It seems irrelevant to this discussion.” she suggested.

When Elspeth turned back to Alexi, she didn’t miss the high spots of pink on his cheeks.

“Try another,” he drawled impatiently, thrusting a book forward.

Madame Vega stood swiftly. “We should inspect the doors before we delve any further into the journals,” she suggested. “If Marisa hid a message in them, the specifics may become clearer once we have extracted its hidden knowledge.”

“Yes,” Alexi lowered his hand, his brows crossing as he frowned at - the tabletop, it seemed - then his eyes shot back up to Elspeth. “Remain here. Touch nothing.”

Madame Vega cleared her throat. “She may be able to pull more from the doors themselves, Alexi.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” he crossed his brows at her, then flicked his hand toward Elspeth. “Come with us.”

“Now?” Madame Vega queried with a frown. “But - it is broad daylight.”

“I am through with waiting,” the man stormed out of the office, and Elspeth caught Vega’s very slight hesitation, because she was looking for it. The woman seemed to be in the act of suppressing a response.

“Come, Elspeth,” she said in a rather emotionless tone.

Elspeth said nothing, and just followed behind Madame Vega. She knew neither of them would be able to interpret Cassy’s message, written in Gadi, but she started to second-guess her openness with Alexi.

Perhaps naively, she had assumed giving him the map would appease him, and she would buy time to save her friends and depose him. But…all fear of the man removed, Elspeth was left with a sickening sense of dread, that no matter how much information she gave him, it would never be enough. Not until he had the keys to activating the BOT in his actual hands.

And Elspeth was unwilling to give him that.

And when she stopped ‘seeing’ Marisa’s memories; stopped providing him with clues of her own volition? He would want to hook her up to the machine, to squeeze more answers from her.

Of course, Elspeth would never let it come to that; if she caught an inkling of it, she would simply knock him out and incite Rushton’s rebellion to take control while he was out. By being open now, Alexi would forget entirely about Selmar, and never take an interest in Cameo. This was the right path.

So why did she feel so uncertain? Was it merely that this was uncharted territory?

Before they reached the entryway, Elspeth determined that she was willing to point out Cassy’s Gadi message to them. They would not be able to translate it, and even if they did, Cassy’s message was so damned confusing that they wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.

Alexi pushed open the doors from the inside with a rather unnecessarily dramatic gesture, spinning on his heels to eye both Vega and Elspeth.

“The map,” he snipped to Elspeth.

“Be mindful of your volume,” Vega suggested delicately, closing the doors behind them.

Elspeth nodded, steeling herself with a deep breath, buying time to find the right words as she pressed her fingers to one of the panels of wood. Her eyes travelled the plains of the mythical creatures interspersed with scenes from nature; swirling trees and scooping oceans and tiny, delicate flowers, so intricate and beautiful. Cassandra Duprey had organised it, though her descendants had carved it - hadn’t they? - under her instructions. Had Cassy seen Elspeth’s future played out twice when she had designed her clues? Had that been why they had been so intricate, so confusing, the first time around - because Cassandra hadn’t known which iteration of the Seeker she would be dealing with, or what she would be willing to divulge to the wrong minds?

She realised she’d been staring at the panel for long enough to warrant an answer, and pressed her fingertips against the swirling marks running through the horizontal panels. “There,” she added for emphasis. “These are words.”

Both Vega and Alexi were by her side; Alexi bent to peer closely at the design. “What do they say?”

“They are in another language,” Elspeth supplied. “I can’t read it.”

Madame Vega brushed a hand over a few letters. “How can you be certain they are words?”

“Marisa spoke it,” Elspeth made up on the spot. “She could speak many languages. I’m going to assume it was why she was so good at devising codes.”

Vega feel into silent thought, her eyes on the design, but Alexi stood tall and frowned at Elspeth. “My grandmama has never written this language in her books.”

Elspeth nodded in agreement. “But she has written in other languages, and codes,” she offered. “She was clearly a masterful linguist.”

“That she was,” Alexi drifted off thoughtfully, gaze returning to the doors.

“We must document this,” Vega murmured thoughtfully. “Give me time - a week, at most, and I will provide a translation.”

“You speak this language?” Elspeth queried quietly.

Madame Vega pursed her lips. “I doubt this language has been spoken in a thousand years by anyone but Marisa.”

Alexi let out a sound of frustration, stomping his foot on the doorstep like a petulant three-year-old. “I am tired of delays! Why must we translate this at all?” he waved his hand at the door, sneering. “If she hid a message in these panels, she would have thought about what it needed to say, in our own language,” his eyes turned on Elspeth. “You will find these words in her journals.”

“I can try,” Elspeth winced, heart racing at the prospect. Sure, she could give him the message, but she didn’t think he’d like it.

“There is no harm in using _all_ of our resources-“ Vega began.

“I will not bring that meddling old man into this!” Alexi uttered, a little too shrill for sanity. “Not when we are so close!”

Elspeth clamped down on her gasp, allowing only her eyes to widen; he had all but confirmed that Vega was aligned with the Druid. That had to be who Alexi meant.

Madame Vega pursed her lips and fixed Alexi with a blank, warning stare that seemed to be entirely wasted on him. “I do not intend on drawing anybody else into this, unless it will aid our cause. We have books at our fingertips, many of which are codexes and one of those may provide a translation for this ancient language.”

Alexi held a finger out to Vega, and Elspeth had to resist the urge to grab it and twist it back to jab the man’s chest. “You waste your time with that. I’ll continue pursuing the diaries. I know the answer lies in them, somewhere,” he grated.

Madame Vega considered Alexi blankly for a beat, her arms crossed all the while.

Elspeth found the interaction rather intriguing, but her heart beat a little faster at the dangerous road she was now treading. The thought of being in that office alone with Alexi was enough to curdle the contents of her stomach, and she consoled herself with the knowledge that a) she could knock him out with her mind and b) it would give her more time to study him.

“Do not forget who it is you serve,” Alexi concluded to Vega in a quiet tone.

Madame Vega’s perfectly manicured eyebrow arched, and she blinked swiftly. “We should reconvene over nightmeal with our respective…discoveries,” she said quietly, gaze shifting to Elspeth. “Go with Alexi, and continue with the journals.”

Elspeth had barely finished nodding when Alexi pulled the doors open and motioned for her to follow.

As she left, Elspeth was surprised to recognise Madame Vega’s enthralling probe seeking entry to her mind, and dissolved her primary shield to allow the woman entry.

“ _You will tell him no more of what you see,_ ” the woman instructed promptly.

“ _I’m afraid,_ ” Elspeth told her, because any fourteen year old would be a fool to not fear this situation. “ _If I don’t give him what he wants, I’m worried he’ll hurt me._ ”

“ _He won’t dare,_ ” Vega placated fiercely. “ _We have never been this close to obtaining the map. He will not risk it. You must not fear him, Elspeth, you are better than that,_ ” she allowed. “ _He responds to logic. Facts. Do not betray your emotions or he will use them._ ” 

With that, the woman withdrew, unwilling to discuss the matter further.

Elspeth hastened to keep up with Alexi as he stormed back toward Vega’s office. A bitter taste settled in her mouth as she understood a little more about what might have gone wrong with Ariel, and how precisely the boy had decided it was wrong to feel anything.


	11. The Weight of the World

Elspeth drew on what knowledge she had of Marisa to ensure Alexi’s afternoon wasn’t wasted, and reluctantly drew on her psychometric abilities (really a product of both farseeking and teknoguilding abilities). The fourteen-year-old Elspeth had not had the practise of mind to detect Marisa’s thoughts directly, until Alexi had hooked her up to the machine, but it was a simple matter for the honed, well-practised and well-adjusted twenty-nine-year-old mind.

“She was thinking about Michael and Manda again,” Elspeth shook her head, passing the unopened journal across the desk to the man.

Alexi tossed it onto the ‘read’ pile with a disgruntled noise. “Sentimental nonsense,” he grunted, handing Elspeth the next book. “What else?”

Elspeth accepted it and held it to her chest, branching out with her probe to pick up the lingering traces of thought from the pages. She couldn’t use Michael and the Manda he had never loved as an excuse again. Psychometry wasn’t a defined art; wasn’t even an art that they used at Obernewtyn, for there was no need, and Elspeth began the arduous task of separating the thoughts of others who had held the book from Marisa’s stronger signature.

It was with a little jolt that Elspeth picked up traces of Selmar, and dimmer still, Ariel’s mind on this book.

Alexi must have caught it. “What? What is it?”

Elspeth shook her head, wincing through her closed eyes. “She was angry,” Elspeth lied.

“Angry about what?”

“The…her husband?” Elspeth frowned, uncertain of where she was leading him. “Lukas Seraphim,” Elspeth mused, searching her mind for anything she might remember about him.

“That’s nothing new,” Alexi scoffed. “He was a madman.”

“Right,” Elspeth sighed, nodding as she forced her brow to relax. “I’ll keep trying. There’s more here.”

Alexi made some protest about the time this was taking, but Elspeth focussed on the book instead. Both Selmar and Ariel had held this book, and their muted impressions of fear and distress brought pain to her mind. Elspeth repressed a shudder, understanding that the first time around, she had been hooked up to the Zebkrahn when she had held this book.

 _This_ was the book Marisa was writing in when she’d been thinking about the doors.

This was the book Alexi had tried to get Ariel, then Selmar, to scry.

The anger that flooded Elspeth at further evidence of his crimes roared through her blood like wildfire, and she had to restrain the coiling power rising within, coalescing into a knife-like probe, ready to mete out justice.

Alexi did not need to be saved. There might have once been kindness in him, but it had been erased over the decades of privilege and power.

He needed to be stopped.

“Why this book?” Elspeth mused, opening her eyes and fixing Alexi with a blank expression; Vega’s word of caution remembered. Logic. Facts. No emotions.

It was how Vega had learnt to deal with him.

Alexi’s mouth curled sideways into a knowing smile. “You sense it too, don’t you?”

Elspeth placed the book on her lap, resting her hands on the closed cover. “Can I read it?”

“Why bother?” Alexi spat, too fast for Elspeth’s liking. “There is nothing pertaining to the map within, only words of an old woman. What was she thinking when she wrote in it?”

Elspeth pursed her lips, suppressing a sigh. The levity that had largely stuck with her since she had been flung back in time retreated. Everything retreated, in fact; the brightness, the hope, the clarity and the laughter, to leave her mind as it had been before she had learnt to feel properly again.

She hated it. She hated him, for making her, and those who had come before her, do this.

“She was thinking about the doors,” Elspeth told him, locking her gaze onto the man across the desk.

Oblivious to her change of tone, Alexi’s eyes lit up. “What does the hidden message say? Are you getting it?”

“I’m getting something,” Elspeth nodded once, her eyes never leaving him. “She went to such great lengths to hide the map to the Beforetime weapons from you, Alexi.”

Alexi’s eyes widened, and he stood, raising a finger and opening his mouth.

With a swift coercive tweak laced in spirit power, Elspeth locked his muscles in place.

“That’s enough of that,” she told him mildly, standing, placing the journal on the desk between them.

The immobile form of Alexi, gaping and unblinking, just stared. Well, what else was he going to do?

Elspeth opened the journal to a random page, scanning the contents.

_I do question the decision to adopt him now, but Henry is too young to raise a son on his own and the Faction strictly abhor relations amongst their acolytes and the Shadows. Should they find out about Alexi, they will banish, if not crucify Henry._

_If only Emaline had survived the firestorm. She might have been the mind to mould his into one of kindness. She might have understood him better._

_I will continue to protect him as a mother would, as I swore to do. Perhaps I do indulge him, but I fear his early years with his mother were neither happy nor carefree._

_Perseverance is key. In time he will realise why he was sequestered here in the mountains, out of reach of the Faction..._

Elspeth’s eyebrows lifted; she locked eyes with the immobile man. His were watering, and Elspeth tweaked the coercive probe so he could blink.

“Henry Druid is your father?” she shook her head, whistling lowly. That made Ariel the Druid’s grandson. Erin and Gilaine were Alexi’s half-sisters.

All this time (a matter of days, really), she had thought Vega to be the connection to the Druid. Hell, perhaps she still was, and this thing Vega and Alexi had was a familiarity borne of family ties. She’d seen nothing to suggest they were romantically involved; everybody had just assumed.

Elspeth resolved to let herself muse at length later, and turned to another random page.

_...could not dissuade him. The moment Alexi learnt of Henry’s banishment from the Faction, he returned to his father, just as the cat told me he would. The stubborn creature._

_I can’t help but regret sharing the discoveries in the caverns with him, for Alexi will tell him everything to gain the love of a father he never knew._

_But I know him. Henry would tear Obernewtyn down brick by brick if he believed there was Beforetime technology within these walls._

_I have no choice but to destroy it. The Old Ones must find a new Seeker, for they are not this boy._

Elspeth’s heart leapt and she turned the page hastily, eyes widening as she found it blank.

She glanced up to Alexi, accusing. “Where is the rest?” she asked mildly. “What does she mean, Seeker? How did she know the Old Ones?”

When Alexi only glared and continued gaping, Elspeth unlocked his jaw muscles so he could speak.

“You dare use your freak abilities on me?!” he raged immediately. “You will tell me what I want to know, and you will be destroyed-“

Rolling her eyes, Elspeth re-locked his muscles. “I’ll just help myself to the rest, then.”

The reformed Elspeth might have felt remorse for another boy whose path had been tainted by his father. At one time, Alexi too had been vulnerable, shaped by a rigid and unyielding ex-Herder who craved hidden knowledge to gain the upper hand over those who had cast him out.

Perhaps, had Elspeth been sent far enough back in time, she would have tried to help him, as she was now determined to help his son.

But the Alexi of the now was a full-grown adult who had made his choices. Bad choices. Deadly choices.

Elspeth did not hesitate to draw on her sprit power to break through his natural frontal shield and pick through his mind as she liked. She was not gentle about it, and had Alexi been able to utter a sound, he would have screamed. She had neglected to relock the muscles around his eyes; the ice-blue orbs rolled back into his head.

Given the direct approach, it did not take Elspeth long to find what she needed to know.

Flashes of memories were buried here, desperate to not be seen but giving themselves away by merely thinking of hiding them. Elspeth directed her queries to Marisa, but there was too much to see, hazy and flashing rapidly:

_A doting and intelligent honey-eyed woman watching as a blonde toddler learns to walk._

_A boy holds a glowing orb of light, his eyes widening as Marisa speaks about voltage measurements._

_A pre-teen reads a crumbling circuit manual, glancing up and adjusting a dial on a large grey panel, covered in lights._

_A scruffy tabby cat lies around Marisa’s shoulders, its yellow eyes glaring down as Alexi glares back at it; Marisa scratches the cat behind the ears with a small, thoughtful smile._

_Marisa’s voice tells him he has been chosen, but never quite understanding: for what?_

_“They’ll tell you, when the time is right. Until that time, Alexi: learn. Learn as much as you can about finding the machines.”_

_A teenage Alexi frowns as he places a rickety web of wires over his head; his doubt and determination at war as he turns a lever on the panel - no, the Zebkrahn._

_Pain, lights, agonising. He’s burning from the inside._

_Marisa whips the headgear off, eyes flashing with fear._

It was the force of Marisa’s look that propelled Elspeth from Alexi’s mind, and she reeled back, staring at the immobile man as she caught her breath.

It was too much and not enough.

The silence settled as Elspeth recovered her breaths, and the girl tilted her head at him.

“They told you you were special,” she acknowledged flatly. “They told you, you would find the weaponmachines. That it was your destiny. Didn’t they?” she whispered.

She stared at his unmoving form; at the zealous panic settling in his eyes.

“I’m going to let you go now,” Elspeth told him, lifting her eyebrows. “But if you try anything, I will lock your muscles again and we’ll discuss this mind to mind, got it?”

Alexi couldn’t reply, so Elspeth let him go.

The man sagged forward, his face crashing onto the journal-littered desk as he landed in Vega’s chair.

“I’m right. Aren’t I?” Elspeth pressed, mind on alert in case Alexi decided to lunge for her. “You were the Seeker, once.”

Alexi’s breaths evened out in the lengthy silence, broken eventually by a short, defeated laugh. “I _am_ the Seeker,” he lifted his head, exhaustion plain, managing to meet Elspeth’s eyes across the desk. “I swore an oath, to do whatever it takes to find them. To keep _him_ from finding them.”

“Who?” Elspeth hazarded.

“The Destroyer,” he grimaced, wincing as he leant back into the chair, raising a hand to press his temples.

Elspeth expected him to continue, and a huff escaped her when he didn’t. “Your father?” she guessed, aghast. “They told you he’s the Destroyer?!”

Alexi shot her a glare from under his hand. “I will do whatever it takes to fulfil my destiny.”

Elspeth rose, indignation pouring through her. “That’s not good enough,” she fired. “You’re not supposed to find them by maiming, torturing children! What were you thinking?!” she hissed.

Alexi managed a shrug. “They told me there would be a price,” he deadpanned.

She swallowed, remembering the Agyllians telling her a similar message, then shook her head in frustration. How - how could there be two Seekers; two Destroyers. Were their lives a game to the Agyllians? Had they been playing a Seeker/Destroyer game again and again, manipulating families and minds, until the right combination of gullible came along to finish the job?

And why?

Elspeth shook her head in frustration, gripping the edge of the desk so hard that her knuckles turned white. “You’re not a misfit. The Seeker needs certain abilities-“

Alexi scoffed bleakly. “Do they?” he huffed. “Those who made the weapons, created the system, didn’t have abilities. They only needed technology. The right keys,” he grumbled.

Elspeth’s mind searched for the flaw to his logic. She had been chosen because she was a misfit; her unique combination of abilities, a gift to ensure that when the time came to confront Sentinel and deactivate the BOT, she’d be able to...

What exactly?

She had used the drive provided in Sador and encoded with her and Maruman’s voices. It _had_ to be her voice.

_The Seeker’s voice._

She’d returned the stone sword. Said the words to turn off the system (hadn’t she?).

She blinked at the desk, beyond the desk, finding her vision obscured by a haze of disbelief.

Deactivating the BOT and reaching Sentinel hadn’t needed any misfit abilities at all.

Anyone could have done it, given the right keys.

Blinking back tears, because now was not the time, stood in a room with a - a - megalomaniac with a Lud complex? Madman? Fool? Sucker?

Elspeth sank back into the chair and stared at Alexi as he continued to slowly rub at his temples.

“What happens now?” she asked.

Alexi shot her a glare. “You tell me, Elspeth,” he sneered. “You seem to have answers for everything else,” he snapped.

It was the moment Elspeth’s anger went through its motions and turned to pity. He had done bad things. He needed to pay for the damage he had caused.

But Elspeth was not a killer.

The words came to her calmly, provided by the mature part of her brain that could find recourse through the confused betrayal. “Alexi, you will be detained for your crimes against your son Ariel and the girl Selmar. You will be brought before Guildmerge, lead by Rushton Seraphim, the true Master of Obernewtyn, to determine your fate. We will not turn you over to the Council,” she sighed, earning a sharp look of disbelief from the man. She offered a wry, humourless smile. “The Council are not ready for us,” she explained. “Any of us. It will be some time before they are. But you _will_ answer for what you have done,” she promised, the tears thick in her throat.

Alexi shook his head swiftly, a small, crooked smile in place. “And let my father reign destruction on what is left of the world? You are signing all our death sentences by keeping me from my path.”

Elspeth nodded thoughtfully, still reeling from the understanding that she had not been the only Seeker, and Ariel not the only Destroyer. Alexi had been driven to the brink of madness in the pursuit of the path the Agyllians had put him on.

“What I have learnt from walking my own path,” she told him, biting her tongue to repress the urge to tell him she was the Seeker, “is that we do not need to walk it alone. The Guanette birds spoke to me as well, and will speak to many others before the great Quest is at its end. Consider your part in this Quest completed.”

Alexi sank into his seat, cradling his head in his hands, and it took Elspeth a moment to understand he was crying, sobbing into his palms. “They...said I was alone. That I could tell no one.”

“They played you,” Elspeth told him. “Just as they played me, and Marisa, and Maruman, and probably Hannah and Cassy, and who knows how many my others,” she said delicately. “That will be taken into account during your trial. I will personally ensure it.”

Alexi peeked over the edge of his hands; his eyes red and swollen with grief.

She had to continue. “But it does not absolve you of the choices you made in pursuit of your goals. Even if they were not your own goals,” she sighed, standing and placing her hands on the table. “I’ll take you to a holding cell.”

He fully lowered his hands, confused. “There is no such place at Obernewtyn.”

“I’ll make one,” Elspeth grimaced, motioning toward him. “Stand up. Hands behind your back. I’ll have to lock your wrists together.”

Alexi stood slowly, confusion ever deepening. “Why?”

Elspeth tweaked the necessary path in his brain, sending a signal to his wrists to lock them in place over each other. “Because I’m taking you to Rushton, and I don’t want your decades of trauma getting any funny ideas when they stand before the true Master of Obernewtyn.”


	12. Chosen

The inhabitants of Obernewtyn couldn’t quite grasp that the fourteen-year-old who had arrived two days prior had seized the zealous Master and set the stage for the rightful heir to step up into his place.

Bemused was probably the overarching emotion, though Jes was the first to recover, explaining to any who would hear him that his brilliant little sister was actually an insufferable know-it-all and they should all really stop giving her so much attention for doing what anyone in her situation would have done.

But the attention kept coming, and for the first time in her life, Elspeth didn’t hide from it.

She wanted to be a part of this community, wanted to help shape and protect it.

So she sat in the dining hall and told Matthew and Cameo of her encounter with Alexi again and again, never tiring of their expressions and exclamations of alarm and cries and hugs of triumph.

She walked Dameon to his room after nightmeals, discussing how Empathy might be utilised in a more proactive way to cure the wolves.

She endured her brother’s exasperated lectures about her rashness, snug within one of Rosamunde’s warm hugs, ever grateful that they had been able to stay together.

She hugged Selmar, both of them in tears as she explained why Alexi had done it, and why it was not okay for it to have happened to her.

She visited Rushton and his allies - though she considered them her friends already - and attempted to guide them into forming the guilds. It was a little like herding cats.

And each day she would train with Ariel and help him back away from the path that his father, and the Agyllians, had made for him, to help the boy figure out who he really was.

—

There was something to be said for talking to people honestly.

Elspeth had wondered all along whether the trust she had been building with Vega was real. It seemed ludicrous that the woman she had killed in one timeline could become anything to her in another.

Yet, here they were, in Vega’s holding cell (the bedrooms in the southern wing, different only as they were guarded by coercers at all hours), talking openly with one another over a cup of tea after their ‘compartmentalisation’ training.

It had been almost a week since she had arrested Alexi, and Vega was being held as a precaution.

“What will happen to us, Elspeth?” Vega asked softly, staring into her cup. She glanced up to the girl warily. “Alexi and I?”

“I don’t know,” she offered the woman a shrug. “But it’s probably going to be better than any deal the Council make you. Or the Druid for that matter,” Elspeth reached forward, collecting another of Javo’s simply heavenly scones, frowning as another thought entered her mind. “How are you related to him, by the way? And how did you come to adopt his grandson?”

Madame Vega faltered. “Why do you want to know about Henry Druid?”

Elspeth half-shrugged around her mouthful of scone.

Vega sent an imploring look to the ceiling. “How can he possibly be relevant to my case?”

Elspeth swallowed. “He probably isn’t. But I’m interested, and I want to know. It might help. You bear a striking resemblance to his daughters, Erin and Gilaine, you know.”

Vega arched an eyebrow, but beneath, her eyes were amused. “It seems as though you have all of your answers already, Elspeth.”

Elspeth shrugged again, smiling sweetly. “Humour me?”

“I suppose I would be a rather useless prisoner if I didn’t talk to my inquisitor,” Vega murmured.

Elspeth shook her head and poured some more tea. “Think of me more like your defence. A seeker of truths.”

Elspeth pursed her lips at the slip up, and replaced the teapot on its heat pad.

Vega’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “All right, my Seeker,” she allowed. “Yes, I am Henry Druid’s daughter. Alexi is my half-brother.”

“And Ariel?”

“Was the product of a very thoughtless dallyance between Alexi and a dear friend, Nidanne,” Vega acknowledged with a small nod. “When she realised the boy was...different, she asked me to take him, to be with his father. Away from her bondmate - an acolyte, on a path to denounce him, and his grandfather...” her blue gaze darkened. "I...encouraged them to think the baby had been Burnt."

Elspeth’s eyes widened. “Ariel’s mother is still alive?”

“And thriving,” Vega smiled, a fondness settling over her face. “On my recent journey to find you, I visited her. She’s about to have another baby. She might have had her by now, actually.”

Elspeth’s stomach dropped at yet another bombshell. “Ariel has...a sibling?”

“A half-sister,” Vega nodded. “At least, Nidanne is certain she will be a girl.”

“Okay,” Elspeth let this sink in. “Why don’t we bring them here?” she asked with as much nonchalance as she could muster while her heart beat thumped noisily in her ears. “Just in case the baby is different, too.”

Madame Vega fixed Elspeth with a curious look. “You’ve...seen something about the baby?”

“Something like that.”

Bemused, Vega shook her head. “What a curious way to live.”

“Tell me about it.”

—

_Months later..._

—

“All right, we’d better get this thing started before the hour grows too late. First order of Guildmerge is the question of how to approach the Council to claim the estate,” Rushton’s voice rang out from inside Vega’s old office, low and sonorous.

Elspeth leaned against the stonework outside and closed her eyes, taking a moment to breathe before she joined them.

The first Guildmerge. The first of many, many decisions and plans and arguments.

She couldn’t wait to join them, but she couldn’t bring herself to go in.

“It should be relatively simple,” Garth spoke - the sound of papers shuffling travelled to Elspeth. “You’re the eldest legitimate heir - Stephen is too young to inherit, even without - you know. You being here.”

There was a titter of laughter, and Elspeth gave a silent grin.

“My point is,” Garth spoke up, attempting to recover, “so long as you have the relevant paperwork, I doubt the Council will care. All they care about is ticking all of the necessary boxes, and you, sir, erm. Do just that.”

Another round of repressed laughter met this claim.

“Thank you for that assessment, Garth,” Rushton murmured, his voice already bearing that hint of exasperation that Elspeth knew so well.

With a laughing breath, she closed her eyes and attempted to compose herself. She had to get inside; she was a Guildmistress, for Lud’s sake! She had tabled almost three-quarters of the proceedings, all expedition requests designed to set wheels in motion and form alliances. She needed to be in there, ensuring the right people were sent to the necessary places; at this rate, Garth would probably convince them to let him personally plead Rushton’s case to the Council.

“Perhaps we’ll discuss the finer points when the other guild leaders have arrived,” Rushton murmured.

Elspeth held her breath; of course he noticed she was missing, though she had gratefully managed to avoid ‘plaguing’ him. They were friends, and he really seemed to listen to her suggestions and appreciate her input.

And it was great. Not awkward, or confusing, or upsetting. They made an excellent team, and Elspeth, being (newly) thirty in mind and (just) fifteen in body, would not change their friendship for the world.

“Moving on. To the matter of Alexi and Vega,” he sighed. “I really hope one of you have some idea of what to do about them, because I sure don’t.”

“They don’t deserve your clemency, Rushton,” Miryum piped up.

“But they will receive it,” Rushton insisted. “Selmar. I would be interested in hearing your thoughts, if you are ready to talk about it.”

“I’m all right,” Selmar’s reply sounded more like a question, and Elspeth could just picture her, the Futureteller Guilden, tilting her head at his concern, nestled between the fiercely protective Maryon and Cameo. “Somebody has to forgive if we are ever to move forward as a people,” she added.

Elspeth’s heart swelled with pride; these little ones had such a brave outlook, considering all they had been put through.

“Agreed. I would still prefer we err on the side of caution, and keep up with their guards until we can be certain they are rehabilitated. Roland? Have you considered the Coercer guild’s proposal to modify their memories?”

“I have, and I maintain it is a preposterous suggestion!”

Elspeth listened on as Roland and the coercer guild (mostly Miryum) entered into a heated debate about the ethics of memory erasure under any circumstances, and Elspeth couldn’t suppress her silent laugh; it was just like old times already. She should walk in and diffuse the situation - she could remind them that Alexi might want certain memories adjusted - and that if one sought out Obernewtyn, asking for healing of the mind, were they not somewhat obliged to deliver? But this was new ground to everybody, and the group needed to formulate their laws based on what they felt was right, not what Elspeth knew about their futures.

She was so, so proud of them all.

“You’re allowed to cry, you know. Suppressing your feelings is bad for you.”

Elspeth laughed properly and glanced down to the slight blonde boy, now with a fledgling twinkle of true hope in his eyes.

He was accompanied by a large black and white farm dog named Sharna.

Seeing them brought her tears to the surface; the once enemies were now inseparable friends. It was a testament to how far Ariel had come that the half-wolf stood by his side to help regulate his emotions, by choice (Elspeth had been sure to check it _was_ the dog’s choice; it was still early days).

“Shouldn’t you be at Guildmerge?” she lifted her eyebrows conspiratorially, burying her hand into the fur on Sharna’s head and scratching. “ _Did you make Ariel late by insisting he play that stick game over and over?_ ”

“ _Sharna does not play stick games, ElspethInnle,_ ” the dog nuzzled her palm with a snort.

“I know, I’m late,” Ariel hazarded a small, uncertain smile. “Mama needed someone to hold Lidge so she could sleep. My head is still buzzing. What’s your excuse?”

Elspeth’s eyes and chest glowed with pride. He was scared about Guildmerge; she didn’t need Empathy to feel it, merely common sense.

He was letting himself feel scared.

Of course he was scared. He had a long way to go before the others would truly trust him, and Obernewtyn on the whole was more cautious of Empathy than any other ability, because of his behaviour.

“We’ll do this together,” Elspeth encouraged. “I can’t be expected to lead the Empath Guild without my Ward.”

Ariel rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you chose to lead the guild that specialises in the only ability you don’t seem to have,” he hissed.

Elspeth tilted her head, unaffected by his taunt. “What does that have to do with anything? Rushton said I could lead any guild I wanted, and I want to learn about Empathy more than any other ability.”

“Because it’s the most dangerous and you have a pathological need to throw yourself into harms way?” her Ward supplied with a note of teasing.

“No, you brat,” Elspeth squinted at him, smirking. “I did it because I want to understand why people do the things they do. I thought the answer lay in separating myself - as a detached observer,” she sobered, sighing at the memory of those strange, somewhat lonely five years, and the somewhat lonely life she had insisted on leading before, though it had not been without its moments of brightness and friendship and love, however fleeting.

“But I know better now,” she resolved. “To understand the human experience, one must immerse oneself in it, and Empathy is key to understanding other points of view.”

“Ugh, stop,” Ariel tilted his head back. “It is too early for another Elspeth Gordie lecture.”

She offered her palm, and Ariel didn’t hesitate in placing his small hand in hers. “You love my lectures.”

“I truly don’t,” he replied sweetly.

“Shut up.”

They turned the corner, and Elspeth and Ariel took their places at the Guildmerge table, both uncertain about what their destinies would contain, but they were ready to face it, with hope.

—

“ _You have broken the world and all that is in it,_ ” Maruman accused.

Elspeth jolted awake and sat up with a wheeze, glancing around swiftly.

She located the not-cat sitting on her bedroom windowsill. He had arrived yesterday on the back of Enoch’s supplies cart, and had pointedly ignored Elspeth since.

She yawned, actually relieved that he had finally come to berate her. She had been anxious about how Maruman would strike all day.

“ _Okay,_ ” she crashed back onto her pillow. “ _Maybe some of it needed breaking. What else have you got for me?_ ”

Maruman’s annoyance rolled off him in waves. “ _You must still deactivate the glarsh._ ”

Elspeth shrugged. “ _I will. It won’t take up ten years of my life and kill a whole load of friends this time, that’s all,_ ” she wiggled, getting more comfortable and closing her eyes. “ _You’ll see. The Farseekers will stop trying to argue I don’t leave the grounds eventually, and I’ll join the wagon bound for Sador._ ”

She almost regretted letting Jes become Farseeker Guildmaster.

Almost.

Between them, her brother, Ceirwan and Matthew formed a near immobile barrier of protection when it came to the matter of Elspeth’s inclusion in expeditions.

But on the other hand, it was kind of nice to experience how he cared.

“ _The OldOnes are displeased-_ “

“ _The OldOnes can shove it,_ ” Elspeth countered with a snap. “ _As far as I’m concerned, their obsession with the weaponmachines has caused more harm than good. They’ve led you down a ridiculously complicated path, too. I’m surprised you’re not angry with them._ ”

Maruman hesitated. “ _And what of Innle, and the freerunning barud?_ ” he growled.

“ _I’ve taken care of it. Well, the first steps. Well,_ ” Elspeth shrugged, reconsidering. “ _Vega and Alexi will._ ”

It had taken some convincing, and Alexi was still undergoing daily therapy sessions with Roland, but ultimately, their experience with the computers in the cave network encouraged Guildmerge to allow them to both join the Teknoguild (though they were to remain under guard of Daffyd, Hannay and Orys at all times). Vega was due to guide a team to Tor any day now, as she knew how to avoid the Druid’s camp almost too well, and the older half-siblings were making leaps and bounds with the technology made available to them. They had already reactivated the solar and wind collectors that supplied the entire cave network with light, a feat nobody in the teknoguild had managed last time, and at Jak’s insistence, they’d fixed half a dozen coffee machines (which the teknoguilders hoarded greedily). Elspeth was confident they would establish a link between Obernewtyn and the submerged city within the month, and then using an artificial variation of the slipstream method of communication, they would work on connecting to God in Habitat.

There was a lot to do, but Elspeth could only be excited about it.

“ _What of your reward?_ ” Maruman interrupted Elspeth’s musings gloomily.

Elspeth smiled and sat up. “ _Come here?_ ” she asked him.

With a glare, the cat remained motionless on the sill.

A battle of wills ensued, and after much wordless eyebrow raising and glowering, Maruman slinked over and leapt onto Elspeth’s bed.

She stroked his head, laughing at how hard he tried to not enjoy it.

“ _This time,_ ” she scratched behind the not-a-cat’s ear, “ _I will choose my reward._ ”

**_The end._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too much fun writing this. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
